Hunters & Preys S05
by sharlie
Summary: Sequel to Hunters & Preys S03-04, obviously... / A year have passed since they last saw each other. They've changed. However, the world around them is changing too, and it will bring them back together, only to tear them apart again. Hopefully, somewhere along the way, they'll understand what they mean to each other. / This is the final season of this story!
1. Episode 501: Once Again

_Hello! I hope everyone is enjoying things so far...  
So, this is obviously a sequel to Hunters & Preys S03-S04.  
This is the final season._

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_It's still rated M for language, graphic depictions of violence and sex scenes._

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_**Previously on Hunters & Preys:**  
__Jill is a hunter, a kind raised to kill vampires. However, she chose a different path for herself, and decided to be a doctor instead. When she met Eric, she thought it would be the end of her. But he, in turn, chose a different option. H__er ability to feel his emotions and scent his past, let her in, deeper than anyone before.__ First, the __disappearance of his maker brought them closer; then a mutual enemy, and the revenge they took on him, sealed their mutual fate. She was forced to become an advocate for the end of vampire hunting, and he had to become an agent of the vampire Authority.__ Though, eventually, a__fter saving each other's lives and proving their affection, several times, they still couldn't manage to make it work. Because she has a plan for her own life, that she won't let him change, and he can't accept it. So, when she left to begin her surgical internship, in Seattle, he told her that it was the end... But was it?_

* * *

**SEASON FIVE**

**Episode 501: Once Again**

I wake up with a start; I dreamed he was at my door.

Jake is lightly snoring beside me. We've only been dating for a couple of months. He's nice. I thought I would end up with a fancy doctor, and here I am, dating a bearded bartender. With calloused hand, a passion for carving wood and crafting beer. I'm having fun like never before. No drama. It's simple and cute, with good sex, peaceful conversations, and good-hearted laughs. He gets along with my friends; he doesn't care that I work a 100 hour a week, or answer my pager at the most inappropriate times. He shrugs it off, and makes me waffles when we get to sleep in. Jake and Jill, everyone finds that adorable. But he's his own man; he didn't expect me to come into his life, as I didn't expect him. So, we're taking it slow, without being needy; and I feel content.

So why am I dreaming about Eric _now_?

I'm trying not to think too much of it. It wasn't an erotic dream either, like it used to be; he was just showing up at the door, nothing more. Two days ago, I lost a patient that I really liked; I had followed him for several months and we had connected, especially over a book that I had once read in Eric's office. That's probably just it: the stress of it. When that patient died, I had a slight breakdown and was sent home in the middle of the night. I showed up to work the next day, though. Life goes on.

It's harder these days because we have to prep for the intern exam next week, while still working full time. Not that I'm complaining; exams are so much easier for me, than for any of the others. All the procedures are easier too; I'm faster, more precise, and I don't tire as quickly. I'm not bragging; I'm actually a bit embarrassed about that unfair advantage. All the praises I get, I feel, are a validation of an upbringing I despise.

I tiptoe down the stairs, wide awake in the silent house. It's still the middle of the night, but I'm supposed to leave for the hospital in an hour anyway. I'm making sure I'm not waking up any of my roommates thought. There's five of us living here – although some are working nights right now. Of course, – I should clarify – I made sure I'm on the lease. Vampires have not been a problem for me lately, even if the sheriff here is a prick. Though I'm not letting my guard completely down.

When I first got to Seattle, I lived alone, as I always had. Though, after a few months, I found it was eating me away. I was distant; I didn't connect with anyone. So, when one of my fellow interns quit and left this house, I applied to live with the others. They were somewhat reluctant at first, since I hadn't come off as the most amiable person; however, during the year, I've found my place in that small community. After all, we are all wannabe surgeons, competitive, obsessed with work, immature, egomaniacs…so we have a lot in common.

I'm making coffee for when Trissa and Craig wake up; Jake worked late at the bar, so I'm not expecting him to see me off. I'm feeling weird, as an impromptu shiver makes small hairs rise on my nape. The dream was lively, but so incongruous; I can't shake it off. With finally a hot cup in my hand, I'm making my way to the living room, so I can laze about on the couch, until I'm properly out of my morning fog.

The cup breaks on the floor when I see him.

His icy blue eyes are fixed on me from across the lawn. Suddenly, with his inhuman speed, he's at the house. It takes me a second to recover from my surprise. However, when I realize I can feel his presence behind the front door, as clear as ever, I run to open it.

"Eric-"

I'm cut off by his look. He frowns in incomprehension, glancing up and down at me. His mouth is a bit agape, his usually styled hair in disarray, and his eyes wide and lost. Then, we both get a whiff of each other's scent, in the whirl of air caused by the suddenly opened door. I jolt backward. His fangs spring out as he snarls and attacks.

His scent is completely blank. No salt, no sea, no snow, no fire. It's like he's entirely new. And the way he looks at me; that man has never seen me in his life. I wonder if I'm not looking at a newly made clone. But the main problem is that now: he's just a vampire, in the presence of a hunter.

Thankfully, he can't cross the threshold. He hisses in frustrated anger.

"- Eric, what's going on?

\- Eric…"

Or has his memory been wiped clean?

"That's you."

Since I get no reaction, I keep going:

"- Your name is Eric Northman. You're a vampire-

\- I know what I am! – he snaps.

\- Alright. – I raise two open hands in a peaceful gesture.

\- Who are you? – he gruffs.

\- I'm Jill-

\- Who are you to _me_?

\- I'm your friend."

I had to think fast on that one; it's not like I could hesitate too long. But the way he spits his retort sends a swell of pain that gets stuck in my throat:

"That's impossible."

He even smirks meanly, as he's so sure I'm lying.

"- I know, it's hard to believe, but it's true-

\- Let me in, then."

Only, I can't do that. I see murder in his eyes, and his muscles are ready to lunge forward, fangs first. I'm trembling, not in fear, but in anguish.

"- Let me in, - he repeats seductively, and I can feel the pull on my mind.

\- Don't try to glamour me!"

His hand slams hard on the door frame, cracking the wood; he's livid. I have to calm him down, so I pronounce the next words softly, tenderly:

"What happened to you?"

He growls like an animal and finally withdraws from the door frame, to pace on the pathway to the house. I can take a step forward, and I sense his agitation, his confusion. The way he walks, with his head down, lets me know he's thinking hard. It's so disturbing, that his mannerisms are the same, but he's so different at the same time.

"- I can't remember, – he finally admits, shamefully.

\- What is the first thing you remember?"

For a second, he looks at me and I see the boy, that didn't know if his father would come back from the war, or the lost man that looked at Godric as if he would never know what to do anymore. I want so bad to run to him, hug him, tell him it's going to be alright.

"It's okay. Don't worry, – I soothingly say. – I'm going to call your sister. She'll surely know what to do."

And before I leave to find my phone, still in my bedroom, I can clearly see in his eyes that he has no idea who I'm talking about.

While I'm upstairs, I strap on my weapons before dressing up with a long-sleeve shirt. As I do it though, I'm convinced that I would never stake him. He could kill me; I still wouldn't do it. Jake turns on the bed, but he's still asleep. I have absolutely no idea how I'm going to defuse this situation.

The only thing I can surmise, is that he was sent by the Authority on a mission that went wrong. Or that he made an enemy who hurt him. Only, vampires certainly can't get concussions; it would heal. He must have messed with something powerful. Then, I'm suddenly hit with the obvious question I forgot to ask: _Why are you here?_ If he can't remember who I am, how did he find me? And why _me_?

Nora's phone rings until it gets to voicemail, while I'm making my way back down. That's when I hear a conversation downstairs.

"- Who are you?

\- Don't invite him in!" I anticipate.

Trissa and Craig are both there, and Eric is leaning alluringly against the doorframe. Somehow he managed to regain his composure, while I was gone.

"- And don't look him in the eyes, – I add as I reach them.

\- You hurt me, little girl, I thought we were friends…"

_Damn,_ I had forgotten how he used to call me that. It sends a shiver down my spine, and that makes him raise an eyebrow with a sly smile. I need to focus:

"- Your sister is not answering.

\- You know him? – Trissa asks.

\- That's a vampire, right? – Craig adds in a useless whisper.

\- I used to. But he seems to have retrograde amnesia. So, he could be dangerous."

The two humans gape at me, then Eric.

"So what now, little girl? – the vampire asks with an intense glare. – It's going to be dawn, soon; are you going to let me fry out here?"

He acts seductive now, since he's sensing my affection. However, I get none back from him. I only feel waves after waves of raw power, irradiating from him, as if he had absolutely no deep self-control.

He's playing a risky card though. I actually _could_ leave him outside. And, in the middle of those suburbs, he's not going to find somewhere to go to ground easily. Either he's got enormous faith in his ability to persuade us, or he's desperate.

"- Why did you come here? – I ask.

\- Why, to see you, my dear friend!"

He's messing with me without even trying to conceal it. He's just trying to prove to me that we couldn't be friends. That's not smart though. But maybe his pride is bigger than his survival instinct.

"How did you find me, since you can't remember me?"

This question makes him clench his teeth, as he's trying to keep his false confidence up. He's uncomfortable, because it may prove me right.

"- I felt your sadness from across the country, – he admits because he wants answers, and I realize he felt when I lost my patient, two days ago.

\- So you must know I'm your friend.

\- I thought so. But now, I'm starting to think, maybe, you stole some of my blood.

\- I didn't; you gave it to me, to save my life.

\- That's impossible, – he barks again. – I wouldn't give blood to a hunter.

\- Yet you did.

\- Why?

\- Well… Because you cared about me."

He growls. So I have to argue quickly:

"- You didn't at first, of course. But we got to know each other-

\- Why didn't I kill you at first sight?"

I waver. The truth is, I don't know.

"I guess, only you know that."

He growls again and goes back to pacing in the front yard, as if he were laying siege to the house.

"- Maybe you could let him in the basement… – Trissa obliviously offers. And I'm grateful, but also in awe of how his seduction already worked on her.

\- Are you nuts? – It's lost on Craig, though. – He could kill us all-

\- Did he say you were a hunter?" Triss interjects.

Hunters have come out during the past year. They didn't give away all our secrets, but people know there's a kind that protects them against vampires. We're supposed to be cooperating with law enforcement now. Roman must be fuming. Some of the interns had recognized me from the 'End the Hunt' campaign. But it had never gone beyond some teasing about my aborted political career.

"- I used to be. Well, I was trained as such, but I've never actually been one…" I say loud enough that Eric hears me too.

\- That means you can protect us! – she exclaims, not even that impressed.

\- Not against a vampire as old as him, no.

\- How old is he?

\- A thousand…"

That leaves them both speechless. When you think about it, it is truly mind-blowing. I glance back at Eric, to realize he is looking at me with wide eyes too. He had no idea.

He had no idea how much he'd lost.

I walk to the doorframe, though I'm not confident enough to step outside.

"I'm going to help you get it back, Eric, I promise. – _Why am I saying that? I can't help him; I've got work. And he dumped me. Nora or Pam are going to help him, not me. Not my problem. Not anymore._ – You have a sister, and a progeny, I'm going to tell them you're here. Do you have your phone?"

He shakes his head no. I call Nora again, but still no answer. And I've never known Pam's number.

Suddenly, he's inches from me. I almost activated the mechanism on my forearms on reflex. His energy is so much darker than the last time I saw him.

"- What are you to me? – he asks again.

\- I- I'm your friend. – I stutter like I used to.

\- I'm not your friend, – Eric goes on, pointing at the humans in the house, – your friends don't know me.

\- I know who you are – Jake interjects, and I'm baffled. He's coming down the stairs with a frown; I wonder since when he's been listening. – You're Eric, right? You're Jill's ex."

_Yep. That's too far._

Obviously, Jake knows everything. When I met him, I was drunk at his bar, feeling sorry for myself during the holidays. And I let my whole story out. We talked all night. It was liberating. Eric bursts out laughing.

"Now I know you're fucking with me." And his tone is more threatening than amused.

His hand, clamping the doorframe is splintering the wood. And the contempt, the utter disgust, displayed on his face makes me shudder queasily. This is the exact look I've seen on so many vampires, but never him. This is agonizing.

\- Then tell me, Eric, why are you here? – I try again, almost choking.

\- I told you-

\- Except you have a _progeny_! Why aren't you with her? And I know you gave your blood to at least two other people. Sam and Alcide. Why have you come all the way here to see _me_, Eric?

That – and probably the pain he must feel from me – leaves him at a loss for words. Once again, his features fail to keep up the pretense, and I can see how overwhelmed he truly is. I continue with a broken voice:

"It's because we're connected you and I. Even if you can't remember me, you feel it. I even dreamed you were coming tonight. – I add in the softest tone: – If you could trust me, I could help you."

It's disconcerting to witness such a tall strong man, such a powerful ancient vampire, being suddenly so vulnerable. I can see the sky behind him turning from black to blue; he turns to see it too, so I go on:

"The sun is coming up. I'm going to let you in. But first, you're going to swear to me, on your maker, that you're not going to hurt anyone here."

He chuckles sadly: "I don't remember my maker."

I don't think I can repress the look of deep sorrow those words elicit from me. And he gazes at me with a quizzical frown.

"He was the greatest vampire I've ever met. And you love him."

He just swallows hard while still staring at me.

"- Promise me. – I ask again.

\- Let me in; I won't hurt anyone. I have nowhere else to go, anyway."

The admission is painful, and he lowers his eyes in defeat. For the first time, I feel his aggressiveness receding. So, I can now fully sense the extent of his own pain and frailty. I wonder if he fed since he's like this.

"Come on in."

It's a murmur, and I have to refrain even harder not to throw myself in his arms. But when I only extend a hand, to squeeze his shoulder, he recoils, by reflex. I almost break down crying just then. I lead him to the basement, while the others remain frozen. Jake follows us with a beat, though, probably worried I'm not completely safe yet.

In the basement, we cover the little window with several layers of towels and sheets. Then I put a blanket on the concrete floor; I don't have anything better. Eric keeps his distance, not ready to trust me fully yet either. I'm late for work; I have to go. The lump in my throat doesn't let me utter a word, and he keeps quiet too. My whole body itches to comfort him. But he doesn't want me to. When I leave him there by himself, I feel like I'm abandoning him.

Upstairs, Jake gazes at me with a concerned look.

"- Don't worry, I'm just letting him stay until his sister picks him up.

\- You seem to know what you're doing."

I have _no idea_ what I'm doing.

"Just, don't let him hurt you." He adds with a peck on my cheek. And I know he doesn't just mean physically.

* * *

Sam was woken up by Jill's call. Even with the two hours' difference, it was still early in Bon Temps.

"- I have a horrible favor to ask you.

\- Well, I figured you wouldn't call me at this hour, just for catching up.

\- I need you to go to Fangtasia, as soon as the sun is down tonight, find Pam, and tell her to call me.

\- Yeah, no, that's not-

\- It's really important, Sam. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't. Please, tell me you'll do it.

\- Urgh, of course I will. Are you alright? What's going on?

\- Can I tell you later? I'm late for work.

\- You're the one that's horrible.

\- I know; just… Tell her it's about Eric, okay?

\- I thought-

\- Bye Sam! Love ya!"

Well, he was not loving her then. Though, when he went to the vampire bar that night, he couldn't find the blonde anywhere. Of course, no one would to talk to him, and he wasn't keen on leaving Jill's number to some strange vampire. He texted to let her know, and she just asked him to try again the next day, no other explanation. He was indeed hating her then.

Meanwhile, in the basement, Eric couldn't let himself rest peacefully. He was just closing his eyes, sitting, with his back on the furthest wall from the staircase. And he was wondering if he shouldn't just slaughter them all. At least, if he did that, he could rest for a few days in this house without having to worry. But this was a flawed plan, people would probably come looking for the dumb humans. Maybe if he just got rid of her, he could glamour the others, so they'll leave him be. He was dreaming of ways he could kill her, all of them involved tasting her blood though.

The second he heard steps in the house, he was awake and alert, even though it was the middle of the day. He sensed that it was her, before her legs appeared up the stairs. It was so confusing to him, to feel just as much repelled as he felt intrigued by her. He couldn't refrain from licking his lips as she went down, and, has she always had until now, she felt it. She felt his thirst, his hostility, and maybe even his desire. He cringed.

She halted a few steps before the ground, remaining as far as possible, aware of how dangerous he could be.

"Come to stake me in my sleep, little girl?" he partially joked as he still held it for a likely possibility.

She sighed in frustration and rolled her eyes. She was wearing blue scrubs and a white coat, as a doctor would. She looked so young though. He could see why he would have wanted to bone her, if he'd had the chance, although he still couldn't understand in what circumstance he would have shared his blood with her.

She threw three transparent bags of blood his way. He understood that he was indeed a truly old vampire when he was able to keep himself from lunging at them. He, quite literally, couldn't remember the last time he had fed, even if he tried.

"- Don't thank me, – she said.

\- I won't. You're just making sure I don't feel the urge to eat you.

\- I know you're feeling the urge to eat me.

\- Did you steal those?

\- Of course I did.

\- Why didn't you just get me Tru Blood?

\- You hate Tru Blood."

And she cared. He couldn't fathom the affection he was feeling coming from her. Attraction, he could understand. But she honestly cared.

"- Can I drink from you? – he ventured.

\- No, you can't."

So he dove on her, fangs out.

She had time to conjure a silver chain, seemingly out of nowhere, and it hurt, but he could force it away, as he pushed her to the ground. The impact knocked the air out of her lungs, while the hand he used to grab her throat burned on her necklace. So, he flew both his hands to seize her wrists, pulling them as far as possible, and his fangs lightly scraped the skin of her cheek.

"- I asked nicely. But let me assure you: I can.

\- If you asked nicely expecting a 'yes', – she panted, – and won't accept a 'no', you didn't ask nicely. That was just a disguised order."

He marveled at the fact that she was keeping a clear head, and arguing about semantics, while she was completely at his mercy. He could feel she was unnerved; though he couldn't feel the terror she should have been experiencing. He couldn't believe, deep down, she was still trusting him.

"- I think I'm in a good position to give orders, little girl. Can't you see how easily I could kill you?

\- Yes, you could."

As she uttered this, he saw a tear escape her eye, to fall on her temple, and into her black hair. Although, still, it was not from fear, it was from the sorrow she felt at the thought. He brought himself back up and away at once. Even though she smelled fantastic. Wild and fiery. He began pacing ferociously, pondering his own weakness.

"I've got to get back to work. – She stated, straightening back her clothes. – If you pull that stunt on any of the others here, I'll just rescind your invitation, no matter the hour of the day."

She slammed the door upstairs. He had to be more careful. Even when the urge to kill her overtook him, he had to remember she may be his only friend right now. This whole ordeal enraged him. He couldn't accept so be so reliant on a hunter.

Then it came back to him: she'd said he had a progeny. If he could find their bond, he may be able to summon her. The girl had been right; it was strange that he had come here, following instincts alone, though had to spend the whole afternoon, to rediscover the link he shared with his own daughter. She seemed terribly far away, and he indubitably felt that something was wrong with her too. However, it was such a relief when he could finally call her to him. He wasn't even sure she'd felt the call. And even if she had, she'd probably take a few days to be here, though. He had to be patient.

However, right then, he didn't even know what he was supposed to hope for.


	2. Episode 502: Twice as Much

**Episode 502: Twice as Much**

"Tell me who I am, then."

I've had to work late, well after dark, but he has waited for me at the house. Jake is at the bar until closing time. I texted him that it'd be better if he slept at his own apartment tonight. He hasn't answered. Craig is sleeping in an on-call room, and Hasan, the other guy of the house, is at his girlfriend's; while Trissa and Carol came back with me, despite my warnings that the vampire in the basement could probably kill the three of us in a second, if he chose so.

They have both been drilling me all day about him. Carol has been with vampires twice and wouldn't shut up about how awesome it was.

"But you haven't seen him, – replied Triss, – this guy just oozes sex; I've never seen anyone like him. Sorry, Jill, but I can't even believe you've been with him."

I smiled at my own memory, just before realizing that I'm the only one remembering it now.

"- He was my first, too…

\- No way! Must have put the bar pretty high, – Trissa laughed.

\- Well, vampires are rough – Carol interjected – I wouldn't think it'd be the best for a first time…

\- Oh I bet it was – the black girl said with dreamy eyes.

They finally extorted a laughing admission from me:

"- Well, what do you think? The guy's been around for a thousand years, I'm guessing he's had some practice! – Then I added more seriously: – But it was deeper than that. I could feel every emotion coming from him, and he could feel mine; so, it's like, everything was ten-fold.

\- Wouldn't it be like that with any vampire for you?

\- I guess… Yes and no. I don't know, and I have no intention to test that theory anyway."

Was I saying that, in some way, internally, I'm still his? I've had no problem being with other guys, but another vampire feels weirdly wrong. That's fucked up. He dumped me a year ago, and he literally can't remember me. How have I not moved on? The truth is, I've never even looked at another vampire for more than a second. I'm still avoiding them as much I can.

A few times we've had troubles with some of them wandering around the hospital, looking for blood or wounded patients. That's how I know the sheriff here is a joke compared to Eric. He is not yet two hundred years old, and is more concerned with keeping up appearances and his public persona, than actually enforcing any rules. And that's why I'm still hesitant to call him about Eric's issue. I'd rather get the opinion of someone that can be preoccupied by something other than themselves.

Sam has told me he hasn't found Pam yet, and Nora is still unreachable. I even called Adela, but she's had no news for a while either. This is becoming worrisome.

When the three of us get to the house, he's sitting in the living room, watching TV, showered and shaved, looking more himself than yesterday. He had to put the same clothes back on, though – his black pants and olive V-neck short-sleeved shirt –, as no one in the house matches his height by far. He's sipping on the blood I got him, in a tall wine glass. And he greets us with a smile and gentleman manners, that are making me uneasy; he's suddenly playing nice, but I'm not trusting it.

"- You bought some Tru Blood? – says Trissa innocently.

\- Yes, I did. – He answers, and I feel the seduction of glamouring in his voice, that'll make sure they won't ask further questions.

\- So, you really can't remember a thing? – Carol asks, both scientifically and impishly curious.

\- Sadly no. Have you and I met before?"

She shakes her head 'no', with a smile too wide for her own good.

"Good, – he replies. – It would have been a shame to forget something like that."

And with his last word, he gives her an explicit onceover. She blushes. So, I leave to take a beer in the fridge.

Once there and after a few mouthfuls, with a cooler head, I suddenly realize he used the exact same tactic the very first time we met. He hit on my friends and went home with Dawn. It is, in fact, both funny and reassuring, that his personality hasn't changed that much.

Both the girls join me laughing in the kitchen, and I hand them both a beer, even though they seem already drunk on him.

"So, Jill… You two have been over for a while, right?

\- I'm sorry guys. But, please don't do that. I probably should be okay with it, but really, I'm not."

Kudos to me for admitting it. I know he's probably been with many women since we parted, but still, I would die inside, if he went upstairs now, with any of the two. I'm not that big a person. Plus, he's amnesic; wouldn't it be wrong for any of us to take advantage of it? For all we know he could be with someone else. Even if the thought of him in an exclusive relationship would almost have me burst out laughing.

"- Did you love him? – Trissa whispers; though I'm so focused on him, I can feel him tense and prick his ear up, all the way from the other room.

\- I don't know." I can only mutter.

I've missed him so fucking much. To have him here, so close and yet so far away, is a new form of sadistic torture. I thought I had put my life back on track. When I got here, it'd taken me months to get back on my feet, but I had done it. At least I thought I had. Now I realize I never really stopped thinking about him. Because, as content as I was, nothing truly compares to how I felt when I was with him.

He's flirty for the rest of the evening, and I can clearly see the girls cringe in frustration, as one, then the other, goes to bed, regretfully refusing his advances. He glances at me, and my smile is defiant. I can feel he's disappointed, though not entirely.

"- Don't you have to sleep too? – he asks.

\- I'm off tomorrow. – I wait a few seconds before I add, grinning: – It's nice to see you're still exactly the same.

\- Which is?"

_An asshole? _I chuckle, though I would rather not answer. I'm not sure if he's ready to accept sarcasm from me yet.

"- Alright. So, when was the last time you saw me? – he asks.

\- A year ago, so, whatever information I have may be outdated.

\- And who was I a year ago, then?

\- You were a fucking Viking, Eric."

He chuckles, but I'm serious now:

"- You grew up a king, of a tribe by the sea, in what would be Sweden now. You then waged war on the coasts of Europe; you were fierce, merciless, and, to be honest, a real brute. Though your men would have followed you all the way to-

\- Valhalla… - he finishes; maybe some of it could come back.

\- Exactly. But you were reckless too, and you were fatally injured in a battle. You would have died, if Godric hadn't found you, on the very pyre that your men were to use, to cremate you.

\- My maker?

\- Yes. I've met him just before he passed. He was wise and kind then, but you've known him when he was still ruthless. I don't think he's ever been cruel, though. You walked the whole world with him.

\- But he met the true death. How?

\- He chose his own time. He felt he didn't belong here anymore."

That doesn't seem to bother him as much as I thought it would. He even seems to understand. I don't give him too much time to reflect on it, though:

\- He also made you a sister, Nora, who you love more than anyone. She drives you crazy too – I add with a warm smile. – She's a Chancellor of the vampire Authority, and you also work for them, as a kind of field agent, I think. But truly, you're more of a club owner. You have a franchise, that your progeny's been running for you.

\- How is she, my progeny?

\- Pam? She's still a young vampire, about a century old. She's beautiful. Proud and cold. I think you found your feminine match with her. And she loves you more than her own existence. You can trust her… Except, she's not very fond of me. I'd rather find your sister first, to be honest."

We sit across from each other, not completely relaxed yet, however, I realize we've never spend such casual time together. All we ever had feels like stolen moments. The way he slouches on the couch makes him look like a teenager. Since his hair are not brushed back, they fall messily on either side of his face and accentuate his boyish look. The fact that he looks more like a giant lost kid, than an actual Viking right now, helps me tame the eventual attraction. The way he regards me is more intrigued now, than anything else. He's getting used to me.

"You've told me what happened to me, not who I am."

I consider this for a while, and he's right.

"- I guess I'd like to give you a chance to be who you want to be now.

\- What if I become someone you don't like?" He grins and twitches his eyebrows involuntarily, like he does sometimes, when something amuses him.

I shrug.

"You told me, once, that I only saw the good in you, because I _wanted_ to like you. So, I'd rather you be you, good and bad; and we'll see if I still like you or not."

He contemplates this answer for a while, and I'm not sure which emotion takes over.

"- How long have this – he gestures between him and me, not keen on putting any word on it, I suppose – been going on?

\- Not long… We barely saw each other really. I think this might be the longest conversation we've ever had."

Now he doesn't believe me either. He raises a doubtful eyebrow, probably meaning that I know too much for this to be true. So I clarify:

"I guess we were better at non-verbal communication."

His sly smirk widens, and my eyes do too, as I measure the implicit meanings of what I just said.

"I mean, I know about your past because I can smell it on you…"

Now his smile disappears completely, and he straightens up on the couch, unconsciously putting some distance between us. I scoff:

"It's not like there's much to smell now, anyway, is there?"

He glares at me, and silence settles for a while. But he then comes to a decision:

"Maybe you should still try. See if you can 'smell' anything more than what I remember."

I nod and walk closer to him. When I sit by him on the couch, both our bodies tense in reaction to the proximity. I think we're both being cautious, and anxious too, but the tangle of feelings is hard to read. Probably because we don't even know ourselves where we're at.

He sits up to face me, and I slowly advance on him, careful not to make any sudden move. It feels a bit awkward and embarrassing, when it's always felt so natural and intimate before. Nowhere do our bodies touch, and yet his closeness is enough to make me shiver all over. He doesn't tease me about it, though.

I inhale deeply, concentrating on his furthest memory. I am now lost in the Louisiana swamps. Alone and afraid. He remained there for a few days, burying himself in the soft ground to survive, until he felt me. He felt the exact emotion I had been experiencing. And he didn't hesitate a second before flying towards me.

However, earlier than that, I find myself facing a void. When I breathe in a second time, letting the tip of my nose graze the crook of his neck, I feel – but don't see – a faint fog of winter. An ancient laugh. An unexplained pain. Nothing definitive. Nothing useful. Though it leads me to believe that all is not lost.

He recoils slightly, and I'm afraid I made a mistake.

"It tickles," he clarifies with a shy smile. I'm baffled by the innocence I had never seen on this breathtaking face.

I then shake my head apologetically at him. He shrugs as if he hadn't been expecting anything of it. Though I sense his disappointment, and a dash of confusion, as his eyes remain focused on me. I let myself rest on the other side of the couch, and he slouches back. We're both looking away now, but listening to each other.

After a long while, and before I succumb to sleep, I stand and go tidy up the house a bit. He just watches me without a word. After a moment, I feel his restlessness, though. But he only gets up, and down the basement, to fetch another bag of blood, that he pours into his glass. I'll need to supply him with more, before he gets the idea that he needs to hunt.

He stays in with me, for the rest of the night. Which was my intention. Not knowing what or who hurt him, what or who could still be after him, I feel protective. Besides, I'm not sure if he would behave, either.

When the sun is about to come up, I make my way tiredly to my room. However, he stops me halfway up the stairs:

"You didn't tell me how that – again with the gesture between us – ended."

I gulp painfully.

"- That bad, huh? – he mocks.

\- Not that bad. I didn't want to be turned, and so you decided it wasn't worth it."

I turn away with a quiver, so I don't have to suffer his contemptuous reaction. Although, all I feel behind me is confusion. When I glance over my shoulder, I see a frown on his face, as he watches me disappear around the corridor.

* * *

She had to work the next night. So, he ventured out of the house before encountering any of its inhabitants. He walked the streets of Seattle, unable to know if he'd been there before, unable to determine if anything should feel familiar. He found himself avoiding people's eyes, in case he had met them before and should have recognized them. For the same reason, when he discovered a bar, that was obviously filled with vampires, or vampire lovers, he dithered over going in or not, for so long it became ridiculous. It was not his temperament to be hesitant; he could feel that. It enraged him to find himself so weak. He even wavered about going after a lonely woman walking home. He wasn't that hungry, though what infuriated him was that, without his memories, he couldn't decide what kind of vampire he was. He felt torn between bad impulsions and a cold restraint that seemed powered by guilt and something else on which he struggled to put his finger.

_I'd like to give you a chance to be who you want to be now._ God, he hated her. Because he had no idea who he _wanted_ to be. He had no reference, nothing to point him in the right direction. As dawn drew near, he hurried back to the house. He couldn't believe _there_ was the place he felt the safest. With a bunch of ignorant humans and a fucking hunter. It left him, all day, utterly vulnerable. That was another feeling he wasn't equipped to deal with.

"_Where were you_?"

She sounded frantic, as she run to him. But she caught herself just before throwing her arms around his neck, relieved he was fine. He wasn't sure he would have stopped her though, and that thought confused him even more than he already was. For the briefest second, he glanced at her lips.

"I…I've got to go back to the hospital. I left you blood downstairs."

Faced with his silence again, she turned away. She didn't need to tell him she had been worried. And he didn't need to tell her he was feeling depressed. But the distance between them felt even greater, as words failed them.

The bleak neon lights flickered on, well into the afternoon, and she entered the basement.

"I'm sorry to bother you during the day, again. I just thought you'd be more comfortable on this."

She was carrying an inflatable mattress, with sheets, a blanket, and pillows. Also, she put a bag of newly bought clothes on the corner. A few changes of underwear, a black shirt and tank top, as he used to wear, and a navy-blue hoodie, so he'll be able to hide his face if he wanted to wander out again.

"Don't you ever sleep?" he asked.

She chuckled, then halted abruptly, when she noticed the red tears that had left a streak on his cheeks. He remained completely still, sitting against the wall, watching her with a dark look. However, no belligerence emanated from him anymore. So, she simply put down everything, and began making the bed.

"Your sister isn't answering her phone, and I don't know where your progeny is."

He wondered if his child was on her way, or if he was a fool to hope for it. Jill turned to him, and he saw something akin to pity in her eyes. His anger immediately flared up, and she took a step back, before deciding to be proactive:

"- But as soon as I get a few days off, next week, we should go back to Shreveport, to try and retrace your steps-

\- Why didn't you want me to turn you? – he interrupted.

\- Eric-

\- Just tell me.

\- I don't know. Just the idea of it has my whole brain screaming 'no'. Probably because I was brought up hating vampires, this is too much of a U-turn…

\- But having sex with one is okay?

\- You know what? I think I mainly don't want to be at your command. But I wouldn't consider anyone else to turn me, so, I guess we were in a pickle."

He could feel her joking, she even forced a faint smile out of him. Satisfied, she added:

\- In truth, I don't think I want to be immortal. I don't have that lust for life you need; it's just not me. I have a plan for my life, and I need to follow it. After everything I've gone through, it's the only thing keeping me afloat. I think, without that, I would get depressed rather quickly, and I would have to find the strength to end it. So, see, I would make a terrible vampire."

He smiled weakly again, staring into space. Then he wondered:

"- Do I like being a vampire?

\- You love it, Eric. You love the power it gives you. I don't think I've ever felt an ounce of regret in you. Of course, you miss the sunshine, but you never looked back. You're a survivor first, everything else second. I truly believe, when everyone will be gone, you'll still be here, enjoying it all."

He let a brief, genuine laugh burst out, and she beamed at him.

"- But you won't be enjoying it with me… – he suddenly thought out loud.

\- No, you'll have forgotten all about me by then."

Somehow he doubted that. He could feel it, now, that there was something there. If only for the fact that he had apparently let her go, instead of turning her against her will. She was so different than him. But not estranged. Like a mirror that reflected all of you, although reversed.

"You were mine, though, right?"

She paused. The answer was obvious, though she still pondered it for a second.

"And you were mine." She finally uttered with a wistful smile.

He frowned: "Did I love you?"

She froze.

\- Um... I don't know. – She let a long silence pass, that he did not disturb. – To be honest, I'm not sure you knew how to love anymore. But, at some point, you were willing to sacrifice your life for me.

\- Would you have sacrificed your life for me? – He couldn't fathom how any of this could be true, but he was tired of distrusting her.

\- Yes." Her murmur was so sincere, it felt like a punch in his guts.

"Rest now, you're bleeding." She added before starting up the stairs.

He grabbed her wrist though.

"- I… Thank you for helping me. I'm not sure I deserve it."

She turned to gaze at him affectionately. Then, she put her hand, softly on his cheek, her thumb grazing the blood that had dried there. When he didn't move backward, she slowly came closer. And took advantage of being high on the stairs, higher than him for once, to put a light kiss on his forehead. The utter tenderness of it all astounded him.

"Trust me, you deserve it."

He remained unmoving for a long time after she was gone.

* * *

_I don't know if I knew how to love either_, _Eric_.

This evening, I pass by Jake's bar. I want to make sure he's not worried about me, nor about the situation. Or, to be more honest, I want to reassure myself, that I'm not foolishly throwing away everything I've been building.

"- I just want you to know that this is temporary, until I find someone to help him.

\- It's okay, Jill, I get it. I'm not the jealous type. Plus, we never talked about being exclusive, right?

\- It's not like that… – _Is it?_

\- Do you still love him?"

I freeze. _Why is everyone asking this fucking question?_ I never put those words on the messed-up relationship I had with Eric. Then, why can't I just say 'no'? I open my mouth, but the word won't come out. I thought I was done with it. When Trissa asked before, if I had ever loved him, I didn't even know. And now? Fuck, I'm falling for him all over again.

Jake gives me a strained smile, as customers call for him. The fact that he's not jealous doesn't mean it won't hurt. And I honestly don't want to lose him. Now more than ever, he feels like an anchor, I was so lucky to find, in the never-ending storm that is my life.

"I just can't give up on him" is the coward answer I manage to whip up.

He leans over the counter to give me a peck on the lips.

"Do what you've got to do."

I grab his shirt to kiss him more fully. I hope he understands: _I'll come back to you._

I drive back to the house and park in the street before it. Night has fallen a while ago, and I hope Eric is still there. Yesterday, I thought he was gone for good. And the truth is, I just wished we could spend some time together. Casually. Just chatting on the couch. It's a selfish wish, as I don't think he enjoys it as much as I do. But I still dopily feel like we're spending the time together, that we never had the chance to spend before.

When I get out of the car, though, I shudder. Something made the hairs on my nape raise, and unpleasant goosebumps appear. I check that my weapons are ready. It feels like a vampire, but something's off. It smells like a corpse. One that's been decaying in the sun for days, too.

Eric is out in a flash. And we both witness the apparition at the same time. A black veiled lady advances on us. I'm scared as hell. She smells like death.

And a hint of something familiar.


	3. Episode 503: Thrice the Man

**Episode 503: Thrice the Man**

"Eric!"

The veiled apparition has Pam's voice. She runs to throw herself into his arms, but he violently recoils, several feet back. She remains stunned.

"- Eric, it's me…

\- What is that smell?"

He brings the back of his hand to his nose as he cringes, not even bothering to be polite. Nor to spare her feelings.

"He can't remember you, – I interject. – He's lost his memory."

She turns to me. I can't see her face, but I can sense her confusion and fear. And also, her hatred towards me.

"Eric, I'm your progeny-

\- Fuck that! You're a rotting corpse, not a vampire!

\- Eric! Be nice! Pam, what happened to you?"

She uses all of her restraint to keep her emotions in check. Though I can feel her muscles flexing between rage and despair.

"It's those fucking witches. You were supposed to put an end to their little uppity wiccan shit, but you never came back! So, I went there, to look for you, and they cast this goddamned spell on me. Now I'm putrefying on my feet, and there's nothing I can do against it…"

She's on the verge of tears. I had no idea witches existed; I guess they don't have a particular scent, or hunters would know. But at least it explains everything. Or almost everything:

"- What about Nora? Has she been there too? I can't get a hold of her.

\- You don't know? No one has heard from the whole fucking Authority in more than a week. Apparently, there's no one left there. Serves them right, sending Eric to a coven without any back-up…"

She goes on mumbling, but I'm gaping. I was worried that I couldn't reach Nora, now I'm alarmed. What happened to her?

"- Do you think their disappearance has anything to do with those witches?

\- No. I don't. Rumor says, the last place they were all seen was at a new government facility they were supposed to tour. But who cares if-

\- Who cares? You think the American government turned on them? – I'm left aghast.

\- Listen, you little cunt, yes, it would be my biggest concern, if I wasn't _dying from the inside right now_!"

I take a few steps back as the wave of her rage reaches me. Eric appears in between us. He's shielding me from her anger, and she is floored that he would raise his fangs against her.

"- Alright! – I try to calm things down. – We just need to find a way to reverse those curses.

\- Oh no, I'm going to torture and kill every single one of those bitches. I've put up with a lot, but when you mess with my face, it's time to die. – she spits.

\- Well, it seems that you haven't been so lucky in doing that so far…"

She tries to come at me, but Eric remains snarling between us, more animal than vampire right now. I can't believe he's defending me, instead of trusting her. There's no way he can't feel that she is his progeny, despite the awful smell. It should make me ecstatic, that he's choosing my side, against all odds. However, I can see that the way he looks at her, like a stranger, is crushing her, and I can only sympathize.

"Eric, I'm alright; there's no need for this. I'm just saying that we should be careful, Pam."

He remains silent. He seems disappointed. I guess, with finding his progeny, he hoped things would improve.

"- Anyway, they're hiding, I haven't been able to find them in days. – she sounds defeated.

\- Are you alright? Let us see you…" I try with a softer voice.

She turns to Eric and lowers her head:

"- I don't want you to see me like this…

\- I have no idea what you looked like anyway, so, it's not like I care." He shrugs.

She's horrified. I guess amnesic Vikings don't tread carefully with other people's feelings.

She lifts her veil to reveal the most atrocious face I've ever seen. And I've spent a lot of time in the ER. Bits and pieces of skin are falling off to give way to greenish pus. Her nose is gone; her ears only stumps; her lips are next. Leaving asides the fact that bloody tears are making their way through this mess, to fall on her black dress.

Eric jolts backwards in unrepressed disgust. It takes me all my self-control to keep a not-so-perfect poker face. Seeing our reactions, she puts the veil back down hurriedly.

"- Pretty fucked-up, right? Now let's go, Eric, we have to find them-

\- I'm not going."

Eric takes a step backwards. Pam tries to get closer to him, though, each time, he recoils.

"- Eric, you can't stay here, – she argues. – We have to find a way to kill them! Don't you want your memory back?

\- I'm not going with you."

He sounds like a pouting child and looks at me to back him up. I waver. My whole plan was to offload him to either his sister or progeny, so I could get back to my life. But now, I don't want him to go either. I rationalize, telling myself that it's not safe for him to leave.

"He can stay here with me. We'll research everything we can about witches, and find out how we can defeat them. I'll ask other hunters; I'll-

\- You can't tell anyone! No one can see him like this. Or me. If the queen sees us as a liability, she'll use it as an excuse to execute us.

\- I won't tell anyone. I haven't. – I think back: – Well, only my roommates know, but Eric can glamour them.

\- And your boyfriend." – He adds.

Both Pam and I can hear the hint of jealousy in his tone, since he's not as subtle as he used to be. I suppress an unwelcome smile. Her eyes dart between him and me, before she groans in frustration.

"- You can keep him safe, while I deal with this shit show? – she asks.

\- I will. But you have to be careful too. He may not show it right now, but he'll be pissed if you die."

I try to keep it light as I make my point. I don't know much, but it's been said that the loss of a progeny is the worse pain a vampire can feel. I wouldn't wish that to him.

She approaches, but he recoils again, so she just throws him the device:

"That's your phone. Call me if anything happens."

He catches it and only nods in response.

"Alright then, I guess… It's my turn to save you, isn't it?" she finally tells him.

She looks at him longingly, from behind her veil, one last time before she disappears.

* * *

"- You could have at least tried to be more sensitive!

\- Am I usually sensitive? – he asked, not managing to truly feel sorry.

\- Hum… No, I guess you're not." She admitted.

He shrugged then. It had surprised even himself, when he'd realized he wasn't going to follow this rotting stranger that may have been his daughter. He may have summoned her, but it was not what he expected. Of course, her decaying state didn't help, though mainly, he hadn't expected that he would feel nothing. He had thought that seeing someone with whom he had apparently spent a whole century would spark something up in him. It didn't. His memory was wiped clean. And the new memories he was making were _here_.

Eric spent the rest of the night scrolling through old text conversations.

"Wow, I'm _not_ sensitive, nor even polite!"

She laughed at that, which made him smile too.

"And, you and I _did_ seem to be close… But we haven't talked at all since last year."

He raised his head to look at her sleepy face.

"- The last text is you telling me you aced your exam and are leaving in a few days.

\- I know, – she said, not letting her feelings show.

\- Aren't you mad at me?

\- No. – She stated, then thought back: - Well, at first I was. But, you had your reasons to be mad at me too, I guess. And, you told me I deserved a 'normal' life. I never had the chance to tell you that it's not what I want.

\- What do you mean?

\- I'll never want a husband and kids, with a house, a mortgage and a dog. I don't want _any_ of that. I want to be great at what I do. I want to try and be happy while doing so. And, for me, that included you."

She was sitting back on the couch, with her eyes closed and a smile on her lips, as if she was still dreaming this life. He remained silent, until he heard her breathing slowing and deepening; she had fallen asleep. After that, he still looked at her, unmoving, wondering if he had been wrong to leave her then, or if he was wrong to let her in now.

That morning, when he got down to the basement, he crossed path with Craig, one of the roommates, that was getting ready to leave for the hospital with Jill. He ignored the onceover the man gave him, as the first lights of dawn were upon them.

Only a few seconds later did he hear whispers upstairs:

"He's still here? How long are you going to let a vampire stay in our house?"

They began arguing, but she stood her ground. She was not letting him down. A feminine voice he recognized as Carol's interjected:

"You're crazy, Jill! You should spend every waking hour prepping for the exam; instead, you're reminiscing with an ex. This is not you."

Except it _was_ her. She was doing what she thought was right, and she was doing it for him. When did he go from thinking up ways to kill her to trusting her completely with his life?

She called Adela, during her lunch break, to ask her about witches, but the girl had no idea they existed either, even though neither of them were that surprised. They both knew the world was full of unexplainable occurrences. She had no news about the Chancellors either. And Steve Newlin was nowhere to be found. Vampires were becoming restless, however, no hunter found the disappearances too disturbing.

"Call me if there's any change." As distressing as that could be, they needed to resolve the issues at hand, first.

"Come on, let's go find a way to remove curses!"

She hadn't even put down her purse, as she came back from the hospital around 10 pm.

"- Don't you need to rest, after working all day?

\- We don't have time for that!"

She weirdly seemed in the best of moods, so he followed her lead.

They started with a few antiquaries she had heard about, then headed downtown. Seattle's Central Library was a huge glass building, that had to be opened all night, since the Revelation. When they entered, she chuckled at his amazed face. He didn't smother his emotions anymore, as he wasn't so blasé now, and she didn't seem to get used to it.

They borrowed all the books they could, on the matter, and then stole the ones they weren't allowed to take. As they jokingly vied to be the deftest at it, they found themselves running outside, when he swept her off her feet to fly away and back to the house. He relished in her beaming smile as they flew over the brightly lit city.

"- We'll still take them back though, – she thought best to clarify about the stolen goods.

\- You can't be half an outlaw, Jill, you have to choose, – he ribbed her.

\- Right, – she answered tit for tat, – you don't know me: I don't choose sides, I only do what I want!"

He raised an eyebrow in response, as they made their way down the basement, without making too much noise in the silent house.

As Eric promptly flipped through the pages of the books on the floor, Jill was browsing the web for unlikely reliable information on wiccans, with her laptop on her crossed legs, by the mattress.

"- It says here, that the only common knowledge repeated across witchcraft's mythology is that killing a witch would only make the spell stronger, and harder to get rid of… – she read.

\- Well, that's unlucky.

\- You need to call Pam and tell her to hold off on her plans.

\- Let me see."

He came to sit next to her hunched form over the screen. Though, as she was deeply focused on reading the website, her loosened hair wouldn't let him see. Without thinking, he tucked a strand behind her ear, letting his hand fall on her shoulder, and felt her tense. Without mentioning it, though, she put the laptop in his hands and got up to stretch her sore limbs.

"I need to go and catch a few hours of sleep before my next shift. Call Pam; it's important."

And she was gone before his brain could formulate an appropriate answer.

She showed up again, around lunch time, in the middle of the day. She had thought she would only discreetly drop off the bags of blood she had snatched, however, she found him still up and reading.

"- Did you find anything interesting?

\- Plenty, although not much we could use. Necromancy seems pretty powerful."

She came to sit by his side, bumping his shoulder as she leaned over his book, that she exchanged for the blood.

"Make those last, if you can, cause they're starting to suspect something's amiss."

He glanced at the pulse point on her neck, now that her hair was tied back.

"- Look, – she said, unsuspecting or ignoring it, – they say that, apart from their close link with everything dead, witches' spells on the living rely more on illusions and mind tricks than actual magic. This would mean that, even if you guys can't do much against them, maybe _I_ could…

\- I'd rather you stay out of this…

\- Why?

\- Don't you have an exam or something?

\- The exam is tomorrow. After that, we're booking a flight for Shreveport. And we're going to kick some wiccan ass. – She winked at him playfully.

\- This is serious, Jill-

\- I am absolutely serious. If I can stop Pam from killing them and just have them remove the curses, I will. If I can't, well, I guess I'll settle for removing the curses. Because, then, we have to go and find Nora."

He gazed at her, and she just smiled awkwardly before standing up. They both confusedly felt that the other wasn't ready to leave the bubble they had created in this basement. She cleared her throat.

"I've got to take a quick shower before I go back to work. Didn't have time this morning. Plus, you should rest. You're bleeding on your new clothes."

To make her point, she caught, with her finger, a red drop on his jaw, that was falling from his ear. As she showed it to him, he asked:

"Doesn't it bother you, that for all your hard work, everything you do could be accomplished, in a second, by a drop of my blood? Doesn't it make it all useless?"

The Viking was still not keen on sugarcoating anything.

"- Would you give me your blood so I could heal my patients, then?

\- No. – he admitted.

\- See, not so useless."

He smiled, muttering "I guess not" under his breath. But when she turned to leave, he caught her wrist. She looked at him quizzically, before realizing he was examining his own blood on her finger. Before she left, he brought her hand to his mouth. As his lips closed on her warm skin – and though he didn't have ulterior motive, except the reflex, not to let her run off with his blood –, he felt her whole body shiver. His tongue licked the red off, and he felt pleasure erupting inside her, while she stifled a gasp. His smile grew, unhindered, from one ear to the other. She jerked her hand back and escaped up the stairs.

* * *

He must be kidding me! The feeling of his icy lips on my skin has awoken every nerve in my body. His cold tongue sliding on the tip of my finger nearly had me moaning. _God_, I fucking miss him. Because that's not truly him; he's not himself! And, though I felt he liked it too, I can't take advantage of his state. Anyway, that's not the Eric I want. I want him confident, and composed, and reassuring, and proud. I want him to remember me. And then I want to feel his lips again, his tongue, his fingers, his…and I need a cold shower.

However, even under the biting cold stream – or maybe because of it –, I can't stop my eyes from closing, and my mind going back to those moments we shared. I can almost feel how his presence used to feel around me. And his body against mine. But I also see his wide innocent eyes, and how they look at me now, as he rediscovered me from scratch and still came to like me.

My hand holding the shower head involuntarily lowers. The icy flow hits my throbbing, most sensitive, parts. I can't stop thinking that he's only two stories down. And although he's too far for me to sense him, he can definitely sense me. And with my eyes still closed, I can almost see him there, his hand reaching inside of his bulging pants, too. Since it's the middle of the day, he can't come up anyway. But in my mind, he does, to join me in the bathtub. It's not long before I come, biting my lips in case someone is in the house.

As soon as I settle down from the high, though, I can't believe I just did that. I try to shake it off, thinking of all the times he must have felt me, while I was with Jake for example. Though this is different. And I'm not sure I'll be able to look him in the eyes tonight.

I come back from my last day as an intern, with a little spare time before sundown. This should have been at least a little emotional, since we won't all come back in a few weeks as residents, but my mind is elsewhere. First, I'm exhausted, and go straight up to my room to get some shuteye before going back to the library, as we need to find a way to break the curses before our flight tomorrow afternoon. Second, I have to decide how I'm going to play off my embarrassment when he wakes up. And finally, the fact that the news isn't reporting on any of the Chancellors disappearance is more and more nerve-racking as days pass.

I wake up with a start as the night has fallen, though I haven't even slept for three hours. When I get down to the basement, Eric is gone. He's left a note on the opened laptop, saying he's at the university library. On the screen, the reference of a thesis on the American history of witchcraft, was said available at Lemieux Library.

As I'm leaving, I hear all my roommates in the living-room, quizzing each other on flash-cards. Right, the intern exam is tomorrow morning.

"- Come on, Jill! – Triss calls. – Help us! I know you already know all the answers, but still…

\- If you're not studying, you should at least get some sleep, – Carol adds, tilting her head back on her chair, to see me leaving. – You look like hell, girl!

\- Still hanging out with that vamp of yours? – asks Hasan. – I haven't even seen him yet, but I heard he's hot as hell."

He winks at me, as the two girls nod jokingly and Craig scoffs. Though, before I can find any retort, Hasan adds somberly:

"- Is he worth failing this year, though?

\- I won't fail." I state, as I slam the door behind me. Though, what I truly wanted to say was: 'Yes, he absolutely is.'

When I find him sitting in the library – after struggling to get in without a student card –, he grins at me from afar. I was expecting a mocking smile, or maybe abashment on his features, but he's simply, genuinely, happy to see me. This is just as unsettling as it is relaxing, and I don't think I'll ever get used to this uncharacteristic childish cuteness. He pulls a chair next to him, so that I can read the thesis too.

"- Do you understand Latin or ancient Greek? – he asks without preamble.

\- I studied both when I was a teen, but I can't say I'm fluent.

\- Apparently I'm not that bad at it! – he says excitedly. – And a lot of curses are still cast in those tongues, even if some are in unknown or 'demonic' languages. But if we can understand it, we may be able to reverse it.

\- The problem is, you can't remember the spell.

\- But maybe Pam can, for hers."

I'm impressed that underneath his apparent indifference, he still thinks about her.

"- If she can't, I may be able to scent it off her. – I offer, though the idea of smelling her makes us both wince.

\- She said on the phone, that she found their hiding place, but I told her to wait for us.

\- Did she agree?

\- I commanded her, as her maker, you know." He chuckles like a mischievous kid.

I shake my head at him disapprovingly, though I can't stop smiling.

"- The problem is – he adds – we would need to be a witch, to cast a reverse spell, I think.

\- If we can't, we'll find a way to force them to do it."

As he flashes his boyish smile at me, his hand finds mine on the desk, and his little finger grazes my skin. So, to stop the goosebumps, I take and hold his hand forwardly, as I bury my nose back into the thesis.

I'm not sure we've got it all figure it out, though I still booked our flights for just after the exam, today. Anyway, I should be concentrating right now: '_What are the signs of a central line infection?_'; I'm only at a quarter of the test, when half the time's past. I know all the fucking answers, but my brain is working in slow motion. When I blink, my lids remain down for at least thirty seconds. This is what I get for barely sleeping for nearly a week. I'm not going to be able to finish that damn test.

When the time's up, at least I managed to fill in more than half. Everyone is either swapping answers, or talking about a party tonight, to relieve the pressure, but I've got a plane to catch. I go home to pack a small bag, oversee the handling of Eric's coffin by Anubis Airline, and here we go. I brought some books on Celtic idioms and a thesis on Greek curse tablets, for the flight.

We land in Dallas for a short layover as the sun sets. This airport brings back bitter-sweet memories, though only to me. When Eric comes out to join me before boarding, he's completely oblivious to the heartbreak he suffered in this city.

"- So, how did it go? – he asks about the exam.

\- Awfully, thanks for asking.

\- Oh. – And he seemed genuinely worried. – I'm sorry, it's my fault.

\- Of course not; I make my own decisions.

\- Did you at least get some sleep this afternoon?"

I proceed to tell him what I've learned so far, and he listens, half curious, half chuckling, as if it wasn't serious.

"- What's so funny? - I ask at his goofy smile.

\- You're yawning every two sentences; it's adorable, but it's distracting."

I think I blush like a teenager at him calling me 'adorable'.

When we get to our seats, and the plane sets out to take off, he shushes me so he can look at the lights out the window. I can barely keep my eyes open.

"- You should really get some sleep before we land.

\- This flight is not even an hour long; it's not worth it.

\- Shush."

His large hand pulls my head to rest on his shoulder and keeps it there. As he traces patterns on my cheek with his thumb, I breathe deeply, to try and relax; I don't think I finished exhaling that I was already deep into slumber.

He has to wake me to get off the plane, and pull my hand so I'll be able to walk, as I yawn harder than ever. When we exit the airport, he still hasn't let go, and I'm fascinated by the ordinary intimacy of his hand holding mine. We even take a cab to Fangtasia; this is so mundane, I can't help laughing.

We arrive at the closed bar in the middle of the night, to find Pam in worse shape than ever. The stench emanating from her body is obnoxious and, if she's still hiding her face, we can see she's lost most of her fingers. A bad limp indicates that one of her feet will be soon to come off as well; it's leaving a trail of greenish pus as she walks. It is impossible not to cringe. I'm only now beginning to worry that she wasn't exaggerating, when she said she was 'dying from the inside'.

"Don't say a word." She warns, before she leads us to the little shop in the middle of the city, where the witch is hiding.

"- She's been here all along; I can't wait to rip her smug face right off…

\- How many are they in there? – I ask.

\- I don't know. They're coming and going, but their leader, Marnie, she hasn't come out in days."

My idea is simple. I'll go in, tomorrow evening, posing as a customer, so I can assess their number and positions. Eric, who won't let me go alone, will have to remain way back and hidden, only to intervene in last resort. Pam, with her predicament, should sit this one out.

"- They'll smell you coming from a mile away; I'm sorry Pam. The point is only to get information, for now, so we get a better idea of what we're up against, and think up a plan. So we'll know if we need back-up, weapons, or just a convincing apology.

\- Don't you even dare ask me to apologize to those cunts," the rotting vampire warns.

Once back inside the bar, as dawn is drawing near, Pam directs us to the dingy basement. There, I pleasantly realize that I've overcome most of my uneasiness with the place. Though it comes back as soon as Pam shows us the coffins.

"- I had this one brought here specially, from your collection, – she explains to Eric, pointing at the one that looks like a double-bed, – I thought you'd like it."

\- I love it! – he gleefully exclaims, beaming at me.

\- Hem… No thanks. The last time I was locked in a coffin, I almost suffocated.

\- Don't worry, honey, this one is made special for breathers; it has a ventilation system. – Pam helpfully clarifies.

\- Don't you guys have a house? – I ask, honestly curious.

\- You've never been to my house?" Eric interjects.

I shake my head 'no', as I let my hand skim the unbelievably soft red satin interior. I hate to admit that, right now, this looks like the most comfortable thing I've ever seen.

"We do have, in fact, quite a few houses. Still, this basement is the safest place we own, and there's already light outside. So, it's the coffin or the couch upstairs, babe."

Pam settles down in her own pink and white luxury box. Still edgy about Eric's apathy towards her, she mutters a humorless "don't let the bed bug bites" before closing her own lid.

"Come on." the childish Viking says, before hopping into the queen bed coffin himself.

But I'm still wavering.

"I promise I won't bite, – he adds jokingly, and I can only laugh. – Besides, you really need a good rest."

I don't know why I hesitate, when my whole body is telling me to go lie down. So I surrender, both to him and myself.

Once we're both lying down with the lid closed, I thought I'd feel a little claustrophobic, but I actually feel safer than I've ever felt. His face is very close to mine, as he lies on his side and stares at me. I roll on my side too, so I can gaze at him right back. His hand comes to caress my face tenderly, and I close my eyes with a smile.

As I feel his hand move down to my shoulder, then graze lazily the curves of my side, before coming back up, I can almost feel my heart expand. I know to cherish this simple and most earnest moment, because I'm not sure I'll ever get to live one like that again, after tomorrow.

* * *

He woke up still lying by her sleeping form. She had not moved an inch in the last twelve hours, almost as dead as he had been, though he had spent a significant amount of time just listening to her heartbeat. When he carefully moved to unlock the lid, she immediately opened her eyes. They shared an intimate smile, and he couldn't resist kissing her forehead, letting his lips linger on her warm skin. He had no idea when they had become so close.

When they exited the safe bubble they had created for the night, they heard a straining sound coming from Pam's coffin. Eric hurried to open it, to find her seething, with tears of frustration staining the pink silk. One of her hand was hanging inertly from her damaged wrist and the other had no finger left. It was soon impossible to remain in the basement; the stink almost had Jill throw up.

"Stay here, Pam. We're going to find a way to heal you." She promised, before leaving her there.

Her clenched teeth wouldn't let her utter a word, and Eric just nodded, with a new intense look in his eyes, as he, too, understood that they may be pressed for time. Even if he struggled to feel compassion, he could still surmise the gravity of the situation.

After a quick shower, Jill changed into a light dress, she had brought, that would make her seem as non-threatening as possible. She still wore her weapons under the long sleeves of her vest, obviously. They then went out into the young night. Jill bought herself a huge sandwich to get some food in her stomach in case she had to fight later.

They finally arrived near the esoteric shop, where the witches were staying, and parked Eric's car in a distant enough spot.

"- Ready? – he asked, as they exited the flashy vehicle.

\- You want the truth? – she answered, then continued as he nodded: – I'm terrified.

\- This is just reconnaissance. And I'll be right there if-

\- No, I'm not afraid to fail. I'm actually afraid we might succeed."

He raised an eyebrow at her, and she smiled at the familiar expression, before explaining, while avoiding his eyes:

"Well, it's completely selfish, but… I'm just scared that, when you get your memory back, you'll leave me again. Don't tell me you won't; you simply can't know." She added before he could retort anything.

He grabbed her by the shoulders to compel her to face him. Then his hands went to hold her head, caressing her cheeks.

"- But I won't. I can't, Jill. I lov-

\- Don't. Don't say it. Please don't say it." She begged.

Although, when he put his lips on hers, she wouldn't stop him. As his hands clasped her hair, and hers hugged his waist, he tried to passionately convey the words she wouldn't let him say.

She went in, and he remained as far as he could allow. He wasn't supposed to intervene tonight; after all, she was just there to observe. It only took minutes, though, before he felt something was wrong. He felt the pain surge through her, and couldn't resist barging in. As he did it, he knew. From all the books they had read, all the documentation they had gathered, he knew he wouldn't be able to help her. He was only going to get himself killed. But, even knowing that, he still had to go in.


	4. Episode 504: The Fourth Horseman

**Episode 504: The Fourth Horseman**

_Don't tell me that, Eric. It can't be true. You can't fall in love with me in six days. As much as I relish in our intimacy right now, I couldn't bear to hear that from you. Especially since the man who claims to love me now won't exist anymore, as soon as you become yourself again. _

An old bell rings above the door when I enter the dark shop. The feeling of Eric's cold lips still lingers on mine. I can't believe how much I've missed it; it felt so familiar and right. I need to focus.

"We're closed."

The voice comes from a larger room behind the shelves of exotic trinkets, oils, and eastern instruments.

"- How come? – I ask. – Aren't shops remaining opened at night for vamps, nowadays?

\- Vampires are not welcome here."

A middle age woman comes out of the shadow to observe me carefully. I instinctively know that's Marnie, and something is wrong.

"- You know, if you want to protect yourself from vampires, you'd be much safer in a house, where they can't enter.

\- I recognize you, – she says. – You're the reformed vampire-hater from TV. You're a friend of them, now, right?"

I'd rather drop all pretense than risk angering her by lying. Behind her, others have come out from the back of the shop to observe me. There's at least five people here. I suddenly recognize a man called Jesus, that used to be a nurse at Shreveport Hospital, when I did my rotations there. I remember Sookie told me he's going out with Lafayette now. Thankfully, though, I don't see his boyfriend, because that's a bad place to find yourself in, pal.

I speak up, so as to include everyone in the conversation; I want to give them an opportunity to opt out:

"- I've come to bargain, so no one else gets hurt.

\- There's nothing to bargain; tell them to leave us alone! – Marnie shouts.

\- I can only do that, if you remove the spells you cast on them.

\- If we remove the spells, they'll attack us!

\- If you don't, they'll kill you.

\- Let them try!"

She doesn't seem such at peace with that; for a leader, she exudes fear. Maybe there's an opening there. I look directly at the frightened others behind her:

"- I know they came to shut you down, when you probably meant no harm, and they had no right to do that. But this has gone too far; you're putting yourselves in danger needlessly.

\- Which side are you on, lady?

\- No one's. I just want everyone to go home safe."

But even as I say it, I know I'm lying. It might have been true a long time ago; now I know I'd choose Eric over these people any day.

\- We're safe here. – One skinny blond guy says.

\- Trust me, you're not.

\- Is that a threat?"

This Marnie is looking for an excuse to come after me. Though she's the least scary thing I may have ever faced.

"- It's a fact.

\- Because there's so much vampire blood in your body, young lady, you might as well be one of them."

That sentence hits me like a brick wall. I suddenly understand that I'm not as safe as I thought I was. I should retreat. It would be the smart choice. But she's so close to me, and the others look like scared kids. If I stop her, they'll surrender. I just need to keep her alive, but prevent her from speaking, for the time being.

I lunge at her.

But she was ready. Words I recognize as Latin come out of her mouth, in a voice that's not hers. I manage to strike her legs, so I can bring her down with me. However, she never hits the ground. She's floating above my head, as she finishes her curse.

Suddenly, my blood is boiling in my vein and I'm writhing on the ground. My nails are already clawing at my skins to make it come out. My mouth and eyes are wide open, but I can't see anything, nor make a sound. So, when the back of my brain feels Eric come in. I can't scream at him to get the fuck out of here and fly as far as he can.

However, as suddenly as the pain started, it stops. The witch is now focused on him. The others are running away to the back, scared as they should be. Although, the witch seems to be glowing with twisted joy. Eric makes a second mistake: he checks up on me instead of going right for her throat.

She mutters a few Latin words again, while contorting her fingers. He finally dives on her, but she twists her wrist and he's on his knees. Her winning smile is chilling. Eric is completely under her spell as she raises her head to look at me. The mean glint in her eyes tells me we're fucked. I keep my weapons tucked under my sleeves and open my hands in a gesture for peace.

"- Alright. We shouldn't hav-

\- Kill her!"

The injunction takes me by surprise, and I jolt backwards, as Eric stands up at his inhuman speed. I hear Jesus yell at the witch to stop, while my Viking vampire throws himself at me. My weapons are out by reflex, but I can't bring up the dagger. He's already upon me, with his fangs eager to sink into my neck, though I lift the silver chain up to prevent that, still moving backwards as fast as I can.

One quick move from his hand hits my forearm, faster than my eyes can see, and snap it in half. The blinding pain of the broken bone forces me to drop the chain. Soon, his same hand is around my throat, while the other grabs my wrist to keep the dagger away from him. His motion makes me fall backward, and my back slams on the floor, with him above me.

For a second, we look into each other's eyes, and the horror of it hits me fully. I can see that he is conscious. He's watching himself killing me, without being able to stop it. The utter distress in his look is atrocious. But his fingers around my neck still tighten and crush my windpipe. My gasp comes out as a gurgle, as I choke on my own blood. I can feel it filling my lungs, while I'm losing consciousness. All I can think about is the torture this must be for him.

* * *

As he watched the life slowly escaping from her, his body began shaking violently. He was fighting the spell with all his thousand-year-old might. He felt his fangs lowering to her bleeding throat. Straining to deviate them from their course, he angled his own arm, so he could tear the skin on his wrist instead. Trembling from the pain that flood in his body, he still couldn't move away, but managed to bring his hand over her face, so the blood spewing out of him could find its way to her lips.

She opened her eyes again.

He couldn't move a muscle anymore, and she pushed him off her. He remained paralyzed on the floor for a second, while she came back to her senses. For a few seconds, when her eyes were closed and the blood was flowing inside her, she had seen clear images of his past. Though it was not the time to mull this over.

The witch groaned in frustration and began to mutter her curses again.

"- Marnie, stop!

\- If you don't shut up, Jesus, you're next!"

Jill witnessed the lost look on Eric's face subside, while he got back on his feet.

"- Fight it, Eric! You're stronger than her…

\- No, he's not."

This time, Jill had time to jerk further backwards, before he came at her. She threw herself on the floor, to grab back her silver chain with her healed arm. In the same fluid motion, she whipped it around Eric's ankles, so he'd fall on the floor before her.

When she stood, she wavered for a second, evaluating her options. All of the others were too far to be attacked or taken hostage. And Eric would be back on his feet and ready to kill in an instant. She hated herself for it, but she didn't have a choice: she had to seize that sole opportunity to flee. She had to leave him there.

When she finally parked in front of Fangtasia, she let her head rest on the wheel, before screaming her heart out in rage.

"Where's Eric?"

Pam's broken form was waiting for them, leaning against the doorframe.

"- The witch just took control of him, there was nothing I could-

\- You are kidding me, right?

\- I'm sorry.

\- We have to go back for him!

\- We can't. She would control you too. And she also can curse the vampire blood inside me…

\- So we need humans."

Jill thought about calling Sookie, but she had no idea what the faerie could do in a situation like this. Her other options were Sam and Alcide. Both of them owed their life to Eric; they had to help. Sam would definitely help if she asked, but he had a kid on the way, with Luna, and Jill really wished she could leave him out of this. Then, she hadn't talked with Alcide much, since she had left; she'd thought better to give him some space. She wondered if he even still lived here.

Though, when she thought about it, what they truly needed was another witch, one that would be able to break the spells. That's when it hit her. It was obvious, but when Eric had attacked her, she had stopped thinking.

"- Pam, get in the car.

\- We can't leave him there; she could kill him any moment-

\- I know! Get in the fucking car!"

Her brakes screeched in front of Lafayette's house.

"- What in the hell is that, hooker? – He jumped back as he took in Pam's appearance.

\- That's what your little boyfriend did to my friend." Jill answered.

Pam had never been her friend, but it wasn't the moment to worry about semantics. Lafayette withdrew behind the threshold of his home.

"- What is you crazy-ass bitch talking about?

\- I don't have time, Lafayette. I need you to call Jesus. Tell him you need him here, right now, and it's important.

\- And why would I do that?

\- Because I'm pissed, and he's involved with it. So, if you care even in the least about him, you better ask him to come and right some of the wrongs he's done. Otherwise, Pam and I might become vengeful…"

It took an hour for Jesus to be there, and the two women were on edge. When Lafayette understood that this was about Eric and Pam, the two vampires that had held him prisoner for days, he got agitated as well. But, as he went for his shotgun, Jill was faster.

"- I'm sorry to do that to you, Lafayette. I know that was a bad experience for you-

\- A 'bad experience'? You's kidding me, right?

\- But you got out okay. And, I'm sorry to pull that card, but you kind of owe me for that, don't you?"

He got quieter after that.

When Jesus saw them, still on the porch, he lifted both his hands in the air in an appeasing gesture.

"- Fuck. I know I messed up. But I really tried to stop her, I swear.

\- So, you're going to help us?

\- She's a good person, underneath, she truly is. It's just-

\- You know what? I don't care right now. What is she going to do to Eric?

\- She's… – he looked ashamed. – She's going to force him, and every other vampire in the area, to walk into the sun at dawn."

Pam and Jill exchanged a horrified look. Pam got into Jesus' face in a flash.

"Repeat that."

He couldn't help but bring his hand to his nose at the stench.

"I tried to tell her it was madness, but she won't listen to me anymore. And she's too powerful; I can't stop her…

\- Can you break the spells that she cast?

\- I don't understand them…

\- If you did, could you?"

Jesus just frowned at her.

"- It's Latin. – Jill explained. – I can tell you the words she's saying and their meaning. If you tell me what needs to be said, I bet I can translate it back into Latin, too.

\- And you can practice on me right now." Pam added.

Jesus hesitated. So Jill came closer to him:

"- I'm not asking, man, I'm telling. I'm sorry.

\- No, I'm with you. I get it. But you have to swear to me that you won't kill anyone in there. Most of them are just like me; we didn't want any of this to happen.

\- Yeah right, wrong place, wrong time, blah blah blah. – Pam rolled her eyes.

\- All three times, you were the ones that attacked us! – Jesus exclaimed.

\- Alright! – Jill interjected. – You've retaliated, and trust me, we've all suffered for our mistakes. Now it's time to stop it. Please!

\- Yeah, alright, I agree. I'll try, okay?"

Jill was forced to inhale Pam's stank deeply, so she could find, amid the putrefaction, the scent of her memory. There, she heard the exact words of the spell, that she could translate to Jesus. They all got into Lafayette's house, and, despite his protests, he ended up inviting Pam in as well. They lit candles and incenses. Disposed themselves in a circle, and Jesus tied up his own hands with a cloth that he asked from Pam.

After a while of muttering incantations, the whole room got darker, and Jesus looked like he was possessed. He then uttered the words that he had devised with Jill. Pam suddenly convulsed on the floor. Jesus repeated the words again and again, until she finally regained her old beautiful appearance. When it was over, everyone fell back and exhaled.

However, as Jesus and Lafayette checked with each other that they were alright, and while Pam relished in looking at her own reflection in a mirror, Jill remained on the floor, with her hands covering her eyes.

"- You alright, hooker?

\- This takes too long… And you must have Eric present, right?

\- Yeah… – Jesus admitted.

\- There's no way a human could capture and restrain him for that long. Even with a lot of silver. And hunters can't go in there without that witch burning our blood. And if we did it there, Marnie would stop us…

\- We still have to try. – Pam said.

\- You should be calling every vampire you know in this area, telling them to silver themselves during the day, and spread the word. We can't let her kill anyone; she can't win…" Jill grumbled.

Then, she had an idea: "Lafayette? I need the largest, thickest blanket you've got."

When dawn was about to show its first lights outside, Jill, as delicately as she could, covered Pam with a coat of silver chain mail in her white coffin, back in the club's basement.

"I can't believe I have to do this to my beautiful skin, now that it's healed!"

She'd had to rip off the pink silk, as the stench would have never gone away.

"- Alright. – Jill stated. – You're all set. I've got to go.

\- Jill! – Pam called as she was leaving the basement. – Promise me you won't let him die."

Jill stopped in her tracks. Her breathing was ragged with a brittleness she didn't want to admit. When she looked at her hand, it was shaking like never before. Though, still, she answered:

"I promise."

* * *

I wait for him, outside of the esoteric shop. I both hope he's going to walk out the door, as it would at least mean he's still alive, and that he won't, because I'm not so sure my plan is a good one. The sun is up and warming my back. I used to love it; now, it's making my skin crawl. The wait is awful. And my whole body is still trembling in dreadful anticipation.

Suddenly, the front door opens. Eric comes out of it in a jerking manner, as if he was fighting against it. I leap out of the corner where I was hiding. I can't reach him before flames erupt from his skin. I can't believe how fast he's catching on fire. I hurt for him, but it makes me speed up even faster. He screams in pain, and I hear a mean laughter behind him. I ignore it.

I wrap the blanket over his tall frame as fast as I can. Then I throw the silver chain, I found in their club, over him and start dragging his writhing form backwards. Marnie comes out as I'm disappearing around the corner of the street. I feel my blood being riddled with pins and needles. Though, I'm so focused, and my bloodstream is so full of adrenaline, that I'm able to ignore it too. I strain to load the huge vampire in the truck of his car, but, then again, the adrenaline, and the blood he fed me, is giving me strength. In no time, I'm stepping on the accelerator to get the fuck away from this nightmarish place.

_Woo! I did it!_ Damn this feels good. Even if I'll feel a whole lot better when I get him back safe into Fangtasia, and I'm able to check up on him. I park the back of the car to the front door.

"Eric? If you can hear me, I'm going to bring you inside. It may hurt for a second, but try not to fight me, okay?"

He doesn't answer. I take a deep breath before I open the trunk. He doesn't move, but he's not a puddle of blood, so everything's alright. As fast as I can, I drag him inside and close the door. Then I lock it and bar it up, just to be sure. Nobody followed me though.

Now, I maneuver Eric to one of the poles on the dance floor, and quickly tie up his hands around it, behind his back. When I remove the blanket, his skin is slowly healing, but his teeth are still gritting in pain.

"- Stay away from me! – he yells and I jolt backward.

\- Are you still in her control? – It's sounds dumb, if he is, but I still ought to ask.

\- I don't think so… But you can't untie me anyway.

\- I won't."

The witch could probably still make him walk outside, even if she lost the complete control she had during the night.

"Are you alright? – I ask.

\- I… I think so, yeah. Are you?"

I laugh in relief.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

I sit in front of him, and I'm finally able to breathe properly. However, he remains pale, and his eyes don't leave the ground.

"- You need to feed…

\- No. I'm fine. I'm just going to rest."

I crawl to his side. But he moves away from me, even if it tears a cry of pain from him as he does.

"- Eric, look at me. – His eyes remain on the floor. – Eric, I'm sorry, it was all my fault.

\- What? No! I'm the one who hurt you!"

As he raises his eyes, I had almost forgotten how innocent he looks without his memory.

"You didn't hurt me, she did. – I bring my hand tenderly to his jaw. – You're the one who saved me."

When I kiss his cheek, he doesn't move back. So, I move to kiss his upper lip, then fully on the mouth. My tongue slips between his cool lips, so he finally kisses me back. I'm so relieved he's alright, I could cry. I hug him tight, as my forehead falls on his shoulder. His cheek brushes my temple, and I feel him relax a bit as well. When I breathe in, I smell theses lasts days we spent together.

Suddenly, I remember. When he gave me his blood, earlier, I've scented a more distant past for a second. However, my train of thought is cut off by the click of his fangs popping out. We both recoil violently, and he cries at the pain of the silver chain around his wrists.

"- You should stay away. – He states, rueful.

\- You're just hungry.

\- We're in a vampire bar. I'm guessing they serve Tru Blood here.

\- Probably…"

I move to fetch some, but before I do, I turn back to him.

"Listen, I think… If we exchanged blood, I think we might be able to see your past."

He frowns, more afraid than hopeful.

"Do you trust me?" I ask, and he nods without a beat.

I take my dagger in hand and go back to sit beside him.

"With that little dress of yours, I think you're the one that shouldn't trust me…"

I chuckle and hold up the dagger. I bring it near his skin, on the crook of his neck, then I push back my own hair, to give him access to mine. I feel him tense.

"It's okay. Go ahead."

He can't help sinking his teeth in my neck anymore. I swallow a sharp intake of air, but then I swiftly cut his skin in turn, so I can suck his blood too.

I did not anticipate the rush of pleasure that flows into both our bodies. Both our moans meld, and I feel like I can _see_ the vibrations of it expending in the air around us and coming back to hit our skin and heighten our senses. It's the first time I've ever drunk vampire blood without being injured – at least since I'm old enough to remember it. I knew it could come with hallucinations. I'd like to take my time to enjoy it, though, I need to focus. I inhale deeply.

Images come flowing. But it's not what I expected. I see Eric holding me against my will, naked in Dawn's house, and almost crushing me. I see him, in his office, crucifying me against the wall, when he still thought I was a hunter. I see him throw me flying across the room, after I had kneed him in the groin. I see him threatening me, almost crushing my windpipe, when he thought I had something to do with his maker's disappearance. I see him grabbing my throat and draining me in the king's mansion. And I see him breaking my arm and then my neck last night, under the witch's control.

He jerks backwards. The images still haunting his eyes, he stifles a cry as the silver digs in his arms. He puts back his fangs as if he was ashamed of them.

"- I'm sorry! – I blurt out. – That's not what I wanted you to see!

\- Did I really do all that?

\- It's not like that. You lack context here…

\- I did, didn't I? Is that the person I am? How can you even bear to be with me-

\- That's not who you are. You're so much more than that…

\- You sound like an abused victim, with fucking Stockholm Syndrome, Jill!

\- Just let me show you…"

I try to get back closer to him, but he turns again around the pole, to remain as far as he can, with his tied-up wrists.

"- No! I don't want to see! I don't want to remember, if that's what I was!

\- Eric, that's not what you were-

\- But those were actual memories, weren't they? I did all those things to you…

\- And I'm still here. That must mean there's more to it, right?

\- Jill, why would you want me to go back to what I was? You said it yourself, last night, you want me to remain like this too."

I can't deny that part of me does. But I also feel like that part of me is betraying him, betraying who he truly is. The Eric I know would want his memory back. However, he's Eric now too. Who am I to choose for him?

"Jill, look at me. I don't want to remember. I don't care who I was. I just want to stay with you."

_Fuck_. I kiss him so passionately he can't back away. And he kisses me back, unrestrainedly. His cold tongue feels incredibly hot as it battles with mine, and I'm dying to untie his hands. But I can't risk his life, and mine, just because I want him to touch me.

My hands can roam his body, though. While I come to straddle him, I bring my lips to trail down his jaw, his neck, his clavicle, and the beginning of his chest, as I pull on his shirt. His head falls back; with his eyes closed, he bits his lips. Having just drank each other's blood, every single sensation of pleasure is intensified, exacerbated. And I just can't wait anymore.

When my hand reaches down, I feel that he can't wait either. So, I just unbutton his pants, open them and grabs his length out of his boxers. His grunts are plaintive, and I come back to swallow them, just to feel them resonate within my mouth. After a few strokes, I just push away my panties so I can lower myself on him, grateful that I'm wearing a dress for once.

_God_, the sensation of him inside of me. I don't know how I survived so long without it.

"Fucking hell, you feel good…" he cries.

I chuckle and realize he has no memory of sex before now. Even though his body instinctively remembers what to do, the feeling is new to him. I wished the setting were different, as perfect as he offered me, for my first time. But I can only rain kisses on his face as I slowly start moving up and down.

His fangs pop back out. I kiss and lick them too, and he roars while watching me with big wide eyes. I gradually pick up the speed, and soon his hips move in synch with mine. I can't repress my own moans and cries; I arch and my head falls backward on its own accord. The kisses that land on my throat are the most tender I've ever felt, and still urgently laid by his soft opened lips.

He nips at my pulse point, and I lean my head to give him access again. Before he bites, I inhale once, then hold my breath, so no image can ruin this moment. Our motions become desperate and jerking as we both come closer to the edge. When he sucks in harder, I clutch his hair and claw the skin of his back. The fact that we still vividly feel each other's sensations brings us both exponentially higher. Soon, I scream, and he follows with the next thrust. Time is suspended as we revel in the other's climax as much as ours.

Then, we fall back down on the floor, as if we were flying above it until now. He's still tied to the pole, and I remain on him, unmoving now, as I pant against his chest. He laughs in delight and I laugh with him.

"- Well, that was nice, – he says. – We should do that more often.

\- Like, all the time?

\- And everywhere." He raises an irresistibly suggestive eyebrow.

We chuckle as if we were drunk. I love his wide smile, that I never used to see, before.

"- You should be resting. – I can see he's already bleeding.

\- As long as you don't go anywhere…

\- I'm not going anywhere."

Soon, he closes his eyes, with his head against the pole, and I snuggle against him on the floor. However, when I'm certain he's out, I bring my nose to the crook of his neck and breathe him in. There, in the tatters of his memories, I find the curse that was cast on him, and commit it to my mind.

Later in the day, I'm woken up by a phone call. Eric remains motionless, while I get up.

"Hey girl! How're things in the bayou?" Trissa mocks.

I laugh: if she knew even half of it, she'd freak out.

"- Things have been pretty hectic here, but you know me, I like it that way.

\- Hey, we received the results of the exam. Do you want me to open your envelope, or would you rather wait?"

I ponder this for a second. This all seem so far away and insignificant right now. I can't manage to care. So, I shrug:

"- Go ahead, open it. – I hear the sound of paper being torn.

\- Let's see… You passed! Well that's not a surprise, I guess. But… It says you barely qualified. How's that possible, Jill? You almost failed!

\- Thanks, Triss. I'll call you back later, okay."

I hang up before she can answer. Part of me is relieved, of course. But there's also this other part of me, the part that kind of wished I had failed. If I had, wouldn't I have quit? I'm not cut out for failure; my mother made sure of that. Wouldn't it have crushed my spirit, or angered me so, that I would have thrown all of it away? Then, I could have stayed here, with Eric, maybe. Then, I could have let him turn me, maybe. Wouldn't I?

I look at his sleeping form, curled up on the floor, so vulnerable. How could I refuse to spend eternity with him? I guess I wasn't joking that much when I told him that, on top of everything else, I didn't like the hold it would give him over me. I still hope he could think of me as an equal, even if I'll never be nor as old, nor as powerful as he is. Now, if he remains amnesic, it's as though it evens the playing field. But I feel horrible for thinking like that. I never want to accept to be turned just to please him. Like I don't want him to remain like this just because it gives me power over him.

I'm torn away from my reveries by a loud knock on the door.

"- Jill! Are you there? It's Sookie!

\- I'm here! – I then turn to Eric's waking form. – Go back to sleep, it's just a friend."

He rolls back, as comfortable as he can be, completely trusting.

"- I can't open the door, Sook; I can't let light in.

\- Alright… You okay, though? Lafayette told me you were still deep in vampire's mess…

\- I'm fine. And his boyfriend's the one knee-deep in shit."

We lower our voices, and ourselves on the floor, so we can talk across the door, while I drink some orange juice, to get a bit of calories inside me.

"- I was glad to hear you're back, Jill. But I'd rather it'd be for a nice visit, you know?

\- Yeah, me too. How have you been?

\- Well, I wanted to talk to you about something, but I guess it's pretty stupid…

\- I like stupid! It's nice and harmless. I could use a little bit of harmless.

\- I've been meaning to ask you about you and Alcide."

I chuckle.

"- Why? You've seen him recently?

\- Well, we've been on a date. But I don't want to go further, if you and him were a thing, or-

\- We weren't, Sook, don't worry. We just… We had a couple of one-night-stands, and we were friends. But we've drifted apart anyway. I'm glad if you two hit it off… But, what about Bill? Does it mean it's truly over?

\- He lied to me, Jill. He was never honest.

\- He was in the end, or you wouldn't know.

\- You're the one who told him to tell me!

\- Yeah… Because he really loved you, despite that thing with the queen… I was so sure you'd forgive him…

\- Maybe I could have… But then I thought back. Did you know he gave me his blood the first night we met?

\- No, I didn't know.

\- So, it made me question every feeling I had for him, you know? Maybe he did love me, but how can I know if I would have fallen in love with him too? Now, because of him, I'll never be sure. I mean, I'm sorry, but you must know how I feel, with you and Eric, right?

\- No… Actually, I don't. I drank his blood long after I…" I trail off, incapable of finishing that thought.

_Long after what, Jill?_ Though the answer's obvious: long after I'd fallen in love with him.

I should have known that I did. But I guess I never let myself acknowledge it. And that's the reason I can't let him keep on without his memory. Because I would be betraying the one I love.

"Hey, night's fallen here. Maybe you could open the door."

She's right. Eric is stirring, too. I get up to remove the silver around his wrists.

"This is going to hurt."

I rip it like a Band-Aid, and he swears in his mother tongue. Then, he apologizes for being rude. I hurt for him, as much as I want to laugh at the cuteness of it. We exchange a smile, and he's up in a flash. As he towers over me, his hand catches my nape, to pull me into a kiss. And I could spend all night just kissing him, but I step back.

"- I've got a friend at the door, and I need to remove the silver on Pam, too.

\- Uh-huh."

He doesn't let me go before nipping on my lower lip and trailing kisses down my neck first. I have to breathe deeply, to regain my composure.

When I open the door, however, his look changes.

"Who is this? Why does she smell so good?"

Well, that's as far away a reaction as I got when he first saw me.

"She's part faerie. But you can't drink from her. She's a friend. And you owe her, so play nice."

However, his eyes on her remain intense. And suddenly, I realize that, maybe, the only reason he likes me now is because I'm the first 'friend' he met. He can't even remember liking anyone else. His feelings for me, will forever be biased by that, too.

I clench my teeth, and I think he can feel that I'm upset, because he turns to me all apologetic.

"- It's just… I'd never smelled that before.

\- It's okay. There's a lot you need to rediscover. But, you need to show some self-control.

\- I will."

I still bring Sookie downstairs with me. I can't believe I'm being more jealous than concerned for her. I'm really not at my best lately. We let Pam out of her coffin, as she curses at us as well. I wince; I remember the feeling of my flesh being torn by scalding hot metal, when I was tortured. So, I can sympathize.

When the three of us come back to the main room, Eric can finally look up and down at his progeny without cringing.

"Jill was right, you _are_ beautiful."

Pam glances at me with a smile and a raised eyebrow. I flash a bright smile right back at her; I'm happy he can finally see her in all her glory, and be proud of her. Even if it's for the wrong reasons, she needed it.

"So, let's go back to those guys witches to break off Eric's curse!"

I shut my lips tight. How are we going to convince him? I can't even figure out if we should. Is it his decision now, or should we respect the memory of who he was?

"I don't want that. – He says. – I decided I'd rather stay as I am."

Pam is left gaping. She shakes her head:

"- No, you can't.

\- I can. I want to stay with Jill."

She turns a murderous gaze towards me.

"That's not what I want, Eric. – I finally find the courage to say. – I want you to remember."

The pain on his features is agonizing. All four of us remain immobile for a suspended second.

"- That's not- – he starts, but I still interrupt him with a final blow:

\- I'm sorry, Eric. I like you now. I do. But I loved you then."

Suddenly, the door flings open, and we all jump backward. My weapons are ready, and both the vampires have their fangs out. However, it's Nora that staggers inside. I run to her. She's wearing a blue blouse, with a tag: 'Prisoner #19'. She's paler than a ghost, with deep shadows under her eyes. When I reach her, she collapses in my arms, and I can see that her veins are unnaturally darkened.

"- Nora! What happened to you?

\- Hey Jill, – she weakly answers. – Is Eric here?

\- He's right there.

\- Good. I… I wanted to see him one last time.

\- Nora?" I choke.

I don't want to understand what she's implying. But as no one moves, she raises her head to catch a glimpse of him.

"I'm sorry, brother. I think I'm dying."


	5. Episode 505: As They Batted Five Hundred

**Episode 505: As They Batted Five Hundred **

"- Eric! You can't walk away from this!

\- But I don't know her!

\- She's your sister; you have to care!

\- You want me to fake it?

\- I want you to stand by her. You'll regret it if you don't…"

He looks at me scornfully, as I'm already implying that he'll get his memory back.

"- You said that I could be who I wanted to be. But now, you want me to be someone I'm not.

\- You don't get it. I want you to be _you_. You'll thank me for this, I know you will."

Do I? Because, tragically, Nora is dying either way. At least, right now, he's not suffering because of it.

She had been invited by the governor of Colorado, with the other Chancellors, to tour a new Tru Blood factory there. It was supposed to be a meeting in good faith, between vampires and hunters, as well. However, when they got there, what they found was a prison camp. Hunters, with newly developed weapons from the government, captured them, to lock them up in a facility made to experiment on them. There, they infected her with a disease they designed to be lethal for vampires. She managed to escape because they thought her too weak to move, but they won't make that mistake with others now.

However, the indifferent shrug she got from her brother is killing her more surely than the virus. The desperate look on her face, as he walked out the room is more than I can bare.

"- He's not himself… – I tried.

\- He has to be. It's not just for me, Jill. He'll forever hate himself. I know. I wasn't there for Godric. I know how it feels, and trust me, if he can't say goodbye, he'll never recover…

\- I'm going to bring him back to you, I promise Nora."

I ran after him while he paced in the parking lot. I can feel he's restless, fretful; he's even more indecisive that I was.

"- Eric, you can't let her die alone. I can't let you do that.

\- What if I lost you?"

I could tell him that he won't lose me, but the truth is, I have no idea what he'll do with his memory back. He's appeared before me in an instant, his hand caressing my cheek. My knees are feeling weak, but I can't surrender to him now.

"Well, tough shit! – I yell. – This is more important than us! You've spent six hundred years with her, and you're willing to throw that away?

\- For you-

\- No! You know what? If you forsake her, then you've already lost me.

He pulls back with a hurt look on his face, that's just as cute as it is infuriating, because the Eric I know would never let me pity him.

"- I'm sorry, – I add, – I don't want to give you an ultimatum; this is just how I feel.

\- I can sense that you're lying, you know.

\- Can't you sense how much I care about her?"

He remains quiet for a while, as he goes back to pacing.

"Eric, I know this is scary. When you do get your memory back, you're going to hurt like hell. But it's better now than when it's too late and she's long gone."

He's wavering now, looking at me with a pleading look, and I realize, this is who he is, underneath all the layers of pride, underneath his inflated ego, that's who he's always been. I can see red tears welling up in his eyes, matching the ones that are falling down my cheeks. When his pacing brings him closer to me, I grab his hand, to bring it to my lips.

"I just want what's best, but you're right I won't choose for you. I would hate for you to let her, and yourself, down, but I'll never hate you."

We just stare in each other's eyes, trying to find answers and reassurance. His nod is almost imperceptible, but I feel a sudden relaxation in his muscles, as he's finally come to a decision:

"- Alright, I'll do it.

\- Just, promise me you'll remember all this. – I add. – When you remember all the rest, please, don't forget how you felt today.

\- I won't."

His lips crash against mine. He hugs me urgently, desperately. And, as I clasp his nape and his back to bring him even closer, I'm scared this could be for the last time.

* * *

Before they left, in Eric's car, Jill asked Sookie if she could donate some blood to Nora. Pam had a device to extract it, just to make sure the girl wouldn't get infected. They hoped her faerie blood would make the sick vampire stronger, so she'd be in better shape when Eric returned. It had taken her everything to come back to him, only to be met with a chilling indifference. So, when she watched him leave, her hand instinctively went to her chest, where she used to wear her medal, and prayed that her brother wouldn't let her die alone.

They found Jesus back at Lafayette's house. Eric was still anxious and gritted his teeth without saying a word. Lafayette kept his distance with him, remembering all too well what that vampire was capable of. While Jesus was preparing the room, and Eric was just staring out the window, deep in thoughts, he pulled Jill by the arm, to whisper:

"- Why is you doing that, bitch? The guy was vicious! Why won't you let him be this pretty boy puppy version?

\- Let it go, Lafayette.

\- But why?

\- Because she loves him, pendejo."

Jesus asked the two to come and sit with him in a circle around the vampire, who looked scared and utterly lost. Jill found his eyes, to convey as clearly as she could: _I'm scared too, but it's okay, because I trust you_. Though, soon after the brujo began to mutter the words, the Viking began to writhe on the ground. Jill attempted to go to him, but the two other men were clinging on her hands, so she wouldn't break the circle. It was painful to watch, and terrifying to see Jesus' face contort and change in his trance. Though, Lafayette, as frightened as he was too, trusted him. Jill, on the other hand, had trouble, not to trust him but the words she had translated with him. If something bad happened, after she had convinced him to go through with this, she would never forgive herself.

Suddenly, the door of the house opened wide, and Marnie appeared. Before any of them could react, she lunged at Jesus with a knife. Jill kicked him back so he could dodge the attack, although his trance was broken. Lafayette dragged him backward, while Jill stood and got her dagger ready. However, the witch was already muttering words under her breath, and the hunter felt the dreadful tickling in her own blood. Then, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. Marnie coughed up blood. Eric was clutching her tongue in his hand.

The witch gurgled incoherent spells and clasped her throat as blood flowed down. He let the bloody organ fall on the floor and nonchalantly licked his fingers; both Jesus and Lafayette jerked in fear and disgust. Then, he and Jill locked eyes. He frowned and she tensed. She could almost discern the images of his past blasting through his brain. He moved to reach her, but suddenly halted midway. In the wind of his brisk movement, she caught his salted and snowy scent, with as much bliss as trepidation. Though she was brutally brought back to the present, when she realized why he had stopped.

Behind him, the witch was hovering two feet in the air, her eyes completely white, her gory mouth agape. Only, her hands moved seemingly mechanically, twisting and twitching; her fingers stiffened and her wrists rotated. Fear struck him, as he lost control of his own body once again. He fought the spell with all his might, and his body began to shake violently.

Then Pam entered the room and cut off the witch's head without a hint of hesitation. Eric fell on his knees. The head rolled at Lafayette's feet who let out a sharp shriek; blood splattered everywhere. Then, the world stood still for a moment.

"I told you it was my turn to save your life." The sassy vampire told her maker, with a raised eyebrow and a cheeky smile.

In a flash, he was standing before her. And when she raised her eyes to his level, she was so relieved to find recognition in his, that she almost burst out in tears. He kissed her forehead tenderly, this gesture the closest to an apology she'd ever get. And she was quietly ecstatic.

Then, he turned to look at Jill, but before he could do or say anything, Pam continued:

"I came because your sister's state his getting worse."

Realization dawned on him slowly. He progressively remembered everything. Then, when he did, with only sparing a quick glance to Jill, he suddenly disappeared into the night.

* * *

I'm left with Jesus and Lafayette's horrified looks. Pam steps outside to make a few calls, and I apologize flatly for the mess. When he finally regains his composure, Jesus runs to the kitchen to come back with a big bag of salt. He then proceeds to pour it in a circle around Marnie's body and head, while instructing his boyfriend to fetch a big rock and new candles.

"- What are you doing? – I'm curious.

\- We need to accompany her spirit to the other side.

\- Right, so the bitch won't come back to haunt us.

\- You know what? Fuck you, Jill! She was my friend and she is dead. I want to make sure she's at peace now.

\- Sorry…

\- You can leave. We'll take care of it."

I obviously feel like shit. I try to tell them I'll help clean up, at least, but they practically shove me out of the house.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Jesus. And thank you for everything. I owe you guys so much…"

Pam opens the door of Eric's car for me, with a smile. I'm surprised to discern genuine affection in it. I finally managed to grow on her, I guess. When we get back to Fangtasia, Sookie is waiting for us alone.

"- Eric just came back and took her to his home, I think. I'm so sorry, I think my blood made it worse somehow…

\- No, I'm sorry, Sook, it's not your fault. You couldn't have known… You should go home; thank you for coming.

\- Don't you want to come back with me? Where are you sleeping?"

A little at lost, I turn to Pam before answering.

"- Jill is staying with me. We might need her again."

She's saying it with a detached, domineering tone, though I can feel what she's truly implying. I have no idea if Eric will need me or not, but I'll be there if he does. However, Sookie's protective side comes out:

"- She's not at your service! Last time I checked, Jill's still a human, that needs to sleep and eat!

\- Nora's my friend too, Sook. You should go home. I'm safe with Pam."

That felt weird to say, but it's strangely true.

We park in front of a grey-brick single-story house, just outside of town, completely hidden from view by a huge green hedge. It's small, elegant but unpretentious, nothing like I expected Eric's home to be. The living-room is modern minimalist, with huge white couches, dark wood furniture, abstract paintings, and absolutely nothing personal. Inside one huge wardrobe, though, Pam guides me through a Narnia-like – but fireproof – door, then down a spiraling staircase to the basement. And that's where I finally find the luxurious mansion I expected all along. The dim orange lights of the tapestry-full corridor transport me to another era, when candles, dark satin chairs, and hidden boudoirs used to be common among the wealthiest.

We find the siblings deeply engaged in a heated argument. In a cozy bedroom, tucked in the silk covers and pillows of the canopy bed, Nora lays with heavy lids, and a frighteningly blueish complexion. By her side, Eric is holding her hand, though won't let her rest:

"- There must be something we can do; a way to cure you-

\- Even if there were, brother, there's no time…

\- You can't give up that easily!

\- You think this is easy? I've been looking for a cure for days; there is none!

\- There must be-

\- Stop it! You need to accept this, Eric, you need to say goodbye.

\- But I promised you 'forever'!"

I can hear the pain in his broken voice, as much as I can feel it in my being. There's nothing to do or say, and it's excruciating to be this powerless. She tries but can't bring her hand to caress his cheek, while she whispers weakly:

"You gave me so much more, my dear brother…"

I'm stepping back to give them some privacy, when I feel that something's wrong.

"Nora?" I call, but her eyes just closed.

I can't sense her anymore. The urgent worry in my voice is enough to alert Eric, before he notices the cracks that appear on her pale blue-veined skin. He quickly gathers her frail body in his arm, pleading her to stay, in his mother tongue, but I know she's already gone. Suddenly, she collapses in a pool of blood, and Eric cries in agony.

* * *

He briskly stood up in shock. The reality of what just happened escaped him. He couldn't believe that he would never feel her in his arms again. That made absolutely no sense to him. That couldn't be right. The bloody slime, that covered his own clothes and the sheets before him, brought in his throat a feeling of nausea he hadn't experienced since he had become a vampire, a thousand years ago. Other than that, his whole body felt completely numb. The slightest movement seemed unfeasible, and the slightest thought ridiculous.

In the corner of his eye, he saw Pam take a step towards him and he snapped:

"- Get the fuck out of here.

\- Eric… – his progeny started.

\- Both of you! Get the fuck out of my face before I chop your heads off!"

He regretted saying it immediately, though he couldn't bring himself to take it back. The layers upon layers of pride and restrain and ego, around which he had constructed his whole personality, were the only things keeping him on his own two feet, at the moment. However, he had to let out the fury he felt slowly building up inside of him, somehow.

Once they were both out of his sight, he brutally opened every drawers and closets, letting the furniture fall and break on the floor when he didn't find what he was looking for. Until he did. The matches burned bright in the dim lights. And he lit up the drapes, the sheets, the curtains. It took some time for the fire to grow, and he stood there, gradually surrounded by hypnotizing flames. For a long while, he thought about staying there. Blinded by rage and grief, he wondered what prevented him from ending it right then and there.

He thought about Jill, and the short life that lay ahead for her. He also remembered every single sensation he had, while his memory was wiped, and he shook his head to try and not be swayed by all that. He had been weak and foolish. Now, he needed to be harsh and cold. He wanted to be the _fucking Viking _she had described again. He was tired of caring and losing too much. He needed to take back control and power.

He stormed out of the basement and the house in no time. He didn't spare a look for the two worried women that would only make him doubt himself. And he flew away. He needed to get to Colorado, where Nora had been held captive. He needed answers, revenge, and closure. For that, he would simply kill them all.

* * *

I'm staying at Sookie's when the dreams start. I had forgotten how realistic they could be, since I hadn't had his blood in so long. They begin with him touching me, like he hasn't done in a long time as well. Although, they always turn dark. And darker and darker. I feel his flesh being torn apart; I feel his skin catching fire under a blinding sunshine; and I feel his blood rotting in his vein. I also feel the emptiness in his heart, where all feelings should be. So, when it starts again, for the fifth night in a row, I begin by hugging him tight, letting him sense how much I care for him, and that he's not alone. He's wearing a blue uniform like Nora's, but the tag says 'Prisoner #52'. So, I know where I need to go, to find him. And I take the next flight to Denver.

Adela comes to pick me up at the airport. With a few other members of 'End the Hunt', she's been looking into those vampire's disappearance and got an invite from the governor to tour the new state-of-the-art prison they've been building. It's, in fact, a result of the accords I helped craft, between hunters and vampires; the US needed a place especially made, if we hoped for some kind of real justice system.

So, she gets me in, with the group, when they try to prove to us that everything is completely normal and legal. No one knows about a deadly disease for vamps yet, and Adela is pretty sure no one would believe us without hard evidence anyway.

"You're the one that started the whole organization, right?"

An older hunter asks me as we make our way through traffic to meet with the governor. She still looks young, but I know this is one of the effects of vampire blood, only a few wrinkles around her eyes tell me she must be around forty-five, about the age my mother would be if she were still alive. I strain to smile faintly, but don't answer.

"- They've not been kind to you in the media, when you quit, but Adela always speaks fondly of you. She says you're a hero.

\- She's the hero; she's the one that kept going.

\- But she says you're a doctor now, is that true?

\- I'm supposed to be a surgical resident, this Monday...

\- So, you may be the first hunter in history to become a healer. That's pretty special, don't you think? And after starting a movement that'll revolutionize our ancient ways!

\- It wasn't my idea, to be honest.

\- I still wanted to thank you. I may be able to get a peaceful end of life, all thanks to you. You should be proud."

Unexpected tears well up in my eyes. And I realize how much I had wished I could hear those words coming from my own mother. Although, I suppose, if she were alive, she would despise me for those exact reasons. Nonetheless, hearing it said from one of my elders is still appeasing. I wonder if that woman knows I'm here for a particular vampire, but I'm too afraid to ask.

They built it right next to the Tru Blood factory; it made sense; they would need a constant supply. But I know the prison is a front as soon as I set foot in it. Everything is too clean and impeccably in order. The paperwork is flawless, and the few vampires jailed are truly awful. Baby killers and mass murderers. Not one soul would feel sorry for them. This is perfectly beyond reproach. However, the hunters serving as guards leer at us with oozing hatred.

When we get to the infirmary, I almost laugh at the ridicule of their mockery. Why would you need an infirmary in a vampire prison? And I find the perfect opportunity to give them the slip when, at a turn, a female doctor exits a side door, her head deep into her files. With one hand on her mouth, I briskly push her back into the room.

Now that I'm actually inside one of the examination rooms, I know I've been right all along. I've been in hospitals, and I've been in torture chambers; this is a torture chamber. All the instruments and nothing to truly care for any kind of wound. I seize a scalpel – as I obviously couldn't bring any weapon inside the prison – and force the doctor into a straitjacket that was lying around. The inside is laced with silver. Those bastards. I tape her mouth as I don't even care what she has to say for her defense. All I'm looking for right now is a badge of sort, so I can move around freely inside the place. But I don't find any. That's when I realize our guide was in fact showing his wrist to the device, and not a keycard, to unlock the gates.

I use the scalpel to retrieve the chip inside her wrist. Since there is no gauze or anything to tend to a wound in here, I tape the gash as well. I still can't look her in the eyes as I dress up in her white coat, before leaving the room and locking it behind me.

_Breathe in; breathe out. Find the door. Find him_. I saw these corridors in my dreams. We made love on that examination table, against that wall, on those stairwells. Down there, underground, I'll find the other prisoners, the ones with blue uniforms and no paperwork to save their lives.

As soon as I get there, I bump into a very well-equipped hunter. I quickly hide the bloody chip in my pocket. And I also wonder what are the chances I'll get out of this place alive. Fifty-fifty?

"- Sorry sir-

\- What are you doing here?

\- Well, it's my first day, and I think I'm lost. – I'm almost honest.

\- Where did you mean to go?

\- I'm supposed to assist in handling the prisoner number 52, but I can't find where they took him. – I then boldly try.

\- Oh, that one's in solitary, after the carnage he caused in section 3. Never underestimate him.

\- I won't."

He points me in the right direction, but suddenly calls me back, as I scurry past him.

"Since when are hunters becoming doctors?"

_Shit._ Definitely less than fifty-fifty.

"- I'm just out of a reconversion program. Haven't you heard? They seem to think it'd be better if all the personnel were hunters.

\- Well, that's smart." He shrugs before going back to patrolling.

Okay, maybe fifty-fifty, then. So, I stroll in the circular facility, taking in as much as I can. It's well guarded enough that I have no idea how to proceed.

When I finally get to the solitary cells, I find another doctor with two guards.

"- Gentlemen, Doctor Lawrence, – I anticipate their questions, and discreetly read his nametag, – I've been sent to assist you with prisoner n°52. I'm doctor Mcloughlin, – as it says on _my _nametag, and I hope they don't know each other too well; – I'm a new trainee.

\- Ah great, they forgot to tell me I had to babysit, now!

\- Well, after what happened, with that one, they thought you needed all hands on deck.

\- They don't even read the reports, do they? Fifty-two is harmless now.

\- How come? – and I try really hard not to let my concern show on my features.

\- He's lost all will to live! The guy's just been sitting there for days now. He's not even feeding."

The doctor opens the door to the cell, to make his point.

And here he is.

He's still tightly handcuffed, also he's in a cage, and there's still a one-way mirror between him and us. He may be harmless, but they're not taking any chances. His head is hanging on his chest, as if he were unconscious. It's the middle of the afternoon, outside, so I guess he might be, and I hate them for not letting him lie down. The guards sense the tension in my body, though they probably mistake it for hatred towards him.

"He killed a lot of our own. But he's done now."

_Breathe in; breathe out. Don't let them see. _I force a smile on my lips, as I feel a text vibrating in my pocket. It must be from Adela.

"- Well, it seems that you have everything under control…

\- Since you're here, you might as well go and get me the serum."

I look at the doctor quizzically, having no idea what he means, so he instructs one of the guards to escort me. If I had been quicker, I would have simply said 'yes' and gotten the hell out of here.

Though now, I find myself following this taciturn guy through secured doors and underground shady corridors. Until I hear the rumbling of heavy machinery. If my sense of direction is not off, we might be under the Tru Blood factory by now.

We go up some stairs to prove me right, as we enter a lab, full of the red bottles and other research equipment. Although, when I ask one of the technicians for the 'serum', they hand me a vial marked 'Hepatitis V'. It doesn't take me long before I understand what that means.

"- Hey, I've been meaning to ask: that thing is pretty deadly, haven't you guys worked on a cure, in case anyone of us got infected?

\- Of course we have an antidote. But don't worry, doctor, you know it's harmless for humans, even hunters.

\- Can I see it? The antidote?

\- Marty is the one perfecting the thing over there. To be honest, it wasn't truly functional yet, until a couple of days ago…"

He points me to another lab rat, in a corner, but the guard who accompanied me is getting restless:

"- I need to go back.

\- Well, go ahead, I'll find my way back; I have a few questions the governor wanted me to ask, might as well do it now.

\- Suit yourself."

And he's gone. _Thank god_.

I put on my most charming smile, but that researcher barely notices me. When I ask about the antidote, he grunts a few one-word answers and turns his back to me. So, without insisting, I swiftly slip a vial in my pocket and get on my way.

The text on my phone's screen spells: 'Get back NOW'. I ask: 'Where R U', and immediately get the answer from Adela: 'Almost out'. So I hurry. But it's my brain that's going a hundred miles an hour:

They want to infect him; I've got to get him out right fucking now; but it's full of heavily armed guards, and there's still light outside; what am I supposed to do? If I try to free him now, I'll more surely get him killed; plus, he doesn't seem to be himself; maybe he won't be in good enough shape to fight his way out; we need to come back in numbers and at night; and even then, I have no idea how to shut down this place; still we'll have to try. And if he's infected, well, I have the antidote with me. I'm not sure he wants to be saved though; and the last thing he said to me was to get out of his face, before setting fire to his own house with Pam and me still in it; even if it was grief, how will he react when he sees me here?

I drop the 'Hep.V' vial in a ventilation grill and toss the white coat, – keeping only the holy vial and very handy chip, – while I speed up the stairs and back to the phony prison. There must be a lucky star shining on me right now, because I make it back to the others without raising too much suspicion. I'm breathless and shaky, but I stealthily join the back of the line to the exit.

That's when I realize they're body-searching everyone.

I take another step and it hits me. They're being very thorough, too. As if they were searching for something specifically. So, there is actually zero chance I'm getting out with what I took. Discreetly, I put the bloody chip in my mouth and swallow it, almost choking myself while I'm at it. However, the vial is way too big.

"- Could I go to the bathroom, while we're waiting? – I ask the guide, who looks at me funny, since he understandably hasn't noticed me during the tour.

\- You'll only be able to go right after we get out of this zone, I'm afraid."

Damn it, I'm fucked. I should have risked it all down there and started a riot. But it's too late now. They'll find the vial, without any doubt, but what will they do with me? I need to get rid of it. I'll come back for more, that's it. But that's not that easy either.

I don't have much time, so, when I realize I've got a second without anyone looking at me, I just drink down the content of the vial. That's stupid and reckless; I have no idea of the dosage, or the effect it could have on me, but I couldn't dispose of it otherwise.

I then can swallow the small plastic cap and crush the glass vial inside my sleeve without leaving a stain. The small pieces of glass trickle on the floor without a sound. Good. There's nothing suspicious left on me, and the medicine doesn't seem to have any immediate effect. I might even get off from this scot-free.

As they pat me down, I still have trouble controlling my breathing, but no one seems to care. I can hardly believe it. In fact, I'm right not to believe it, because that's the moment when I notice her. The doctor I attacked and cut open. I should have killed her. I knew I should have, but I couldn't. She points at me, whispering in one higher-ranked guard's ear, and I hear shouting, as they all raise their guns towards me.

My cheekbone hits the floor. Everything becomes a blur. My wrists are handcuffed behind my back. Adela's yelling, the others too. Though, I'm still taken away by stronger arms than mine, and _I'm so sorry I couldn't save you, Eric_.


	6. Episode 506: Six Ways from Sunday

_This is it! Finally! The last chapter!_

_Damn, this was hard to write..._

_I'm so glad I managed to finish this story; this is huge for me._

* * *

**Episode 506: Six Ways from Sunday**

"- This is a unique opportunity-

\- No. She is of our own. She's been sentenced, twice now, by juries of the clan-

\- You're supposed to be civilized, now! Your laws don't apply anymore-

\- You're going to lecture me about laws? You? Please…

\- Watch how you talk to me, mister! I thought you were on our side.

\- We are. When it comes to fangers, you have our full cooperation. But this is about the clan. She's not your toy. She is a hunter, and she'll be dealt with, with dignity.

\- By decapitating her, you mean?

\- Exactly."

They were arguing behind the door of his cell, unaware that he could hear them. The woman's voice, he recognized from TV; it was Sarah Newlin, only she was married to the governor of Colorado, now that her ex-husband had been turned. She had fought to be declared a widow, since he was the new spokesperson of the AVL. He was now somewhere between those walls, for having the audacity to disagree with her. Though Eric couldn't care less; if he ran into the little bastard, he would be happy to get the harpy rid of him once and for all.

"- Don't you find it curious, though? Wouldn't you want to know more about their attachment to each other? We could study it, find out the limits of what they'd be willing to do for one another. – The doctor, that had been handling him, inserted himself in the conversation, with a sadistic glee, clearly audible in his voice.

\- Absolutely not. This abjection must end. It will die with her, and we will never speak of it again." The leader of the flock concluded.

It was hard to pick which one he should have hated the most. All their arguments were seriously getting under his skin. It was, obviously, easy to surmise who they were talking about. His little hunter had come to rescue him, but she had been taken.

For the first time in the last six days, he raised his head. When he had been captured, after trying to storm the whole facility by himself, he had decided he would let them kill him. He had felt so tired of fighting, tired of losing, in the end, even though he won every battle. However, he had now one more battle he needed to win. And, oh, they would definitely find out what he'd be willing to do for her. He didn't think they would find a limit to it, though. Not anymore.

The doctor entered the cell for his check-up, followed by the flock leader. Before they did, he had let his head fall back on his chest. He waited patiently, for the best possible moment. Both his hands were handcuffed up on either side of his head. But when the physician approached to draw some blood, Eric found the chain was loose enough to reach him.

"Doctor, get back!" The hunter had sensed something was wrong, though too late.

The vampire's hand flew to the man's neck and tore his cervical vertebrae in an instant. The hunter behind shot his gun without hesitation. However, the doctor's body protected Eric from the silver and UV bullets. The Viking pulled the body up, so that he could reach the keys in the white coat's pocket. Seeing he had to get closer, the hunter already had his army issued dagger in hand and lunged at the vampire before he could get free. The woody point of his weapon broke the flesh on the vampire's chest. He had been fast enough. Or, so he thought. His motion was suddenly stopped by a gory vertebra stuck in his own throat, right in the weakness of his body armor. He fell on his knees, spitting blood, with wide incredulous eyes.

Eric then calmly unlocked the rest of the straps, got to his feet, and bent over to rip off the doctor's right arm, where the chip had been inserted. Outside the door, he heard Sarah Newlin's shriek as she ran away. He knew she wouldn't get far; he would never let her live it down. Though, before that, he'd go to open the gates of the collective cells, where they kept the other vampires. He had to be swift, to kill three other guards. As he hadn't fed since the carnage he'd caused coming in, he felt dizzy, but still managed to get there unscathed.

"Kill everyone on your way out. But if you find a young brunette hunter, probably tied up somewhere, do not touch her, she is mine and mine alone, you hear me?"

No one disputed it, too happy to wreak havoc in the camps' galleries. He found Steve Newlin strapped to an examination table, in a room and left him there, as everyone else had. Soon an alarm started to ring, while he went to find the women's quarters next. He also set them free, but couldn't find Jill anywhere. The reverend's ex-wife had run through a small west corridor, so he briskly followed that lead. Thus, he arrived to the lab, where panic had already overtaken the researchers. Everyone was packing and leaving, except for one guy who was loudly arguing against the blonde harpy.

"You can't do that!"

The woman was breaking vials with a frenzy, while the small man was trying to stop her.

"We have to destroy it all, before those animals find it!"

Eric realized she couldn't be talking about the virus, so it must have been something beneficial for the vampires. He swooped in to stop her, although, this time, he was the one too late. The last vial crashed on the floor. He pushed Sarah away to grab the man, who didn't wait for a question:

"- It- It was an antidote-

\- Can you make it again? – Eric asked.

\- Ye-"

He was cut off by the sound of a gunfire. Eric flinched; she had maimed his shoulder, and the silver burned the inside of his muscle. He braced for the second bullet, before he would find strength to retaliate. Although, after the blast of the gun, he didn't feel it. Instead, the researcher went down. The bitch had killed the one guy that could cure them from the disease. She aimed at the vampire again, but he didn't wait for a third shot. He seized her by the throat with his one uninjured arm, and tore the woman's head off.

* * *

I hear the commotion but can't do a thing about it. The alarm has been turned off now, thank god. Though, with my hands tied to a chair, and my mouth taped, I'm starting to worry I'm going to be forgotten here. Or worse: found by the wrong people. I can't stand being this vulnerable. And I can't understand what's truly going on, too, because Adela couldn't have come back for me so soon. I don't think she could risk to storm the prison. As I see it, she would need help from the inside. And I'm in no position to offer any kind of help right now. Damn, I'm more pissed than scared, really.

So, I'm not sure what to expect, when the door slams open.

"Well, how nice of you to wait for me, dear."

He jokes, but I could sense the utter relief in his whole body, as soon as he saw me, as much as he must have felt it in mine. The last image I had of him, defeated in his cage, had been gut-wrenching; so, seeing him standing in front of me, all proud, with his head sweetly tilted to one side as he eyed me, is elating. He's got a sly smile on his bloody lips, while he leisurely struts towards me. He pulls the tape off my mouth a little too forcefully and I cringe. I only get a glimpse of a shy apology flashing on his features, before the confidence returns.

"- How many times will you come to try and save my life? – he asks.

\- I told you, until we're both safe. – I answer without a beat.

\- I don't think we'll ever be both safe…

\- We'll have to keep looking out for each other then, won't we?"

I try to say that with defiance, but I know it sounds like a plea.

"I guess we'll have to…"

The look he gives me conveys everything I'd want to hear from him, so I can't be sure I'm not dreaming it.

"Could you, maybe, untie me, so we could have this discussion elsewhere?"

I'm beginning to feel uncomfortable, and still a little too vulnerable, with him towering above. And, of course, he feels it.

"- I don't know; I kind of like you all tied-up. – His naughty smile brings a pink shade to my cheeks.

\- Eric, this is hardly the time! – Even my annoyance sounds false, as my lips break into a smile as well.

\- I remember very well, you taking advantage of me, while _I_ was tied-up to a pole, only a week ago…"

My cheeks are flushed now, and I must avert my eyes with embarrassment. I feel his desire flare up, and I don't know if it's from the memory or from my bashfulness right now. But, either way, my body responds to it on its own, and my breathing quickens.

However, the sound of an explosion, not too far away, springs him into action. He rips the tape around my wrists, then leans to free my ankles. Though, as he does, I get a glimpse of his chest under his prison top. Without asking, I pull on his shirt, just to be sure of what I saw. There they are. The dark blue veins on his sternum. The same ones Nora had. My heart breaks for a second.

"- There's an antidote. – I start.

\- There was-

\- There wasn't yet for your sister, but it's okay now-

\- I know. It was destroyed.

\- No. It can't be.

\- _Forget it, Jill_!"

I feel his anger, but I can't accept it. Maybe because, behind it, what I feel is some kind of resignation. And that can't be real.

"- So what? You're just going to die?

\- I don't think you're in a position to lecture me on this.

\- Right. You can't turn me, so you're letting yourself die instead… – I spit.

\- This is not about you, Jill."

I see it in his eyes; he's just lost too much.

"But I guess I get it now. – He adds. – What you meant. What you don't want."

The sadness in his voice breaks me.

He turns to the door. Behind it, we hear gunshots and shouting. I'm not ready to step into that world right now. I can't fight. Because I can't stand the idea of losing him. Still, I look around to find anything I could turn into a weapon. That's when I spot, in a corner, the syringes and tubes designed to collect blood samples. I can't believe I forgot about the antidote I ingested! There is no guarantee it'll work, but there's no way I won't try.

However, to my utmost surprise, I'm met with some resistance when I tell him about it.

"- It's a long shot, Jill. And I'll definitely infect you if I suck your blood.

\- You don't need to. Just, hold the door; buy me some time."

The noise outside is getting closer and closer. We distinctly smell smoke, before the dark fumes start pouring in under the door. I quickly tie the elastic around my arm and flex my hand a few times before sliding the syringe into my vein. The tube fills in rapidly, though not rapidly enough. Someone slams on the door, trying to burst it open. However, as Eric is holding it shut, we hear a shout:

"Stand back!"

A second later, the door explodes, and Eric is thrown backward by the blast. The chair, behind which I'm hiding, dashes against the wall above my head. I turn away to secure the tube, while Eric stands back up, and fully armored hunters flood the little room. We're trapped. No back-door exit, nowhere to hide. Eric suddenly becomes a blur of speed, as UV bullets fly. I can only see him stop for a second, when two of the guards fall to their knees with slashed-opened throats under torn-opened armors. I throw the remnants of the chair at the one behind them that was aiming at me. Eric rips him in half before throwing me his gun. Good. I'm not so desperately defenseless anymore. I just need to avoid maiming him, since he's too fast for even my hunter eyes.

When the second wave reaches the now gory entrance, I hesitate for a second. Eric doesn't. Another hunter gets slaughtered. However, the others behind him are more prepared now. Their aim anticipated his attack and he gets halted in his carnage by a string of glowing blue bullets. His knee touches the ground as he hisses in pain. I press the trigger.

I can only hit them in their bulletproof vests or helmets, but the impacts are enough to make the whole of them stand back. When my chamber is empty, though, I have nothing to reload. Eric is straining to stand; I feel his pain in waves into my own body. But I can only jump behind the plastic table before the sound of gunshots reaches my ears.

* * *

He witnessed the little plastic tray being shredded to pieces with her behind. Her blood splattered the grey walls, and it gave him enough incentive to work through the pain. He staggered towards their attackers and was able to throw the first of them through the ceiling. Pieces of plaster fell on another's back, knocking him cold, but the others were protected by their helmets. The dust from it blinded him for a second and he received two other bullets in the chest. Thankfully they still missed his heart. The UV part didn't prevent the tip from being made of wood.

However, amidst the turmoil, one hunter before him approached with a wooden dagger, eager to finish him. _That would do it_. Eric roared with rage; he refused to go down like this, unable to protect himself, but, above all, unable to protect her. He wanted to live. Long enough to make sure she would peacefully die of old age, even if it meant that he would mourn her too. He wanted to survive long enough to miss her, and be the one that would remember her, throughout the ages that would follow.

He only managed to move at the very last second, so that the dagger pierced through his shoulder, instead of his heart. That allowed him to grab the immobilized hunter and tear off his head. He was now, however, all out of stamina. His guts were sizzling and he coughed up a dark thick blood. His vision was too blurry to tell him when the next one would be coming. That was it.

A new commotion at the end of the wall reached their little room as Eric fell to the ground. His sensitive ears perceived his progeny's voice among the newcomers. He summoned her to his side, hoping she would be fast enough to reach Jill's. He could feel his little hunter's faint heartbeat still, though he wasn't sure for how long, and he wasn't able to move at all anymore. The sound of gunshots resounded through the thin walls. At least their friends were drawing enemy fire; but it also meant they were held back. Vampires don't faint; however, never before had he suffered such blinding agony, and he had to close his eyes, laying on his back, still feeling his regenerating wounds endlessly burning inside of him.

Next thing he knew, he was tasting his favorite spicy blood, pouring down his throat. He began sucking before even realizing he was doing it. So, when he felt her fingers plunging inside one of his wounds, to expertly withdraw the UV bullet, his fang sprung out and he bit. It took him a minute to remember why he wasn't supposed to do that. Though it was too late, he had probably infected her already. He stopped. And growled in pain when she extracted another nasty piece of glowing blue shrapnel. He insulted her when she quickly dug the ones that weren't too deep.

Slowly though, the pain receded and he started feeling better.

"- How did you-

\- Well, you're bleeding all over the place, so…" She shrugged.

He wanted to berate her for being reckless and infecting herself in the first place, but, he guessed that was better than death. He clenched his teeth as she removed the last UV bullet from his side, then he could finally sit up. She was on her knees beside him, with a worried smile.

All hell was breaking loose out in the hall, above them, and everywhere else; they could hear a raging fire spreading in the building; people screamed; guns were still blazing; hunters and vampires fought side by side against hunters and humans. This was so much bigger than them now. It still felt like they were all alone in their own little bubble, though. It still felt like this had all begun the very night they met. She thought it had begun with his simple decision not to kill her. But he knew it had all begun with her decision not to hate him.

And seeing her right now, smiling at him, all covered in blood, with wide dark eyes, he could almost hear her silent prayer that he would be alright, with no regards for her own safety. He felt his non-beating heart swell up with an indomitable emotion, so he gathered her in his arms. And damn him if he ever let her go.

* * *

Pam enters the room at that moment. She studies our two bloodied, entangled forms for a second and rolls her eyes. But I can see the small smile tugging at her lips. She's relieved and amused, now, by our intimacy. I read in her eyes how she knows that he needs me as much as I need him. And this information strikes me like the most powerful explosion inside my chest. Eric sees her but doesn't let go of me. I feel it in our renewed bond: something has changed.

"Everything is falling apart, get out of here!"

Adela's voice booms in the corridor. Smoke from the fire is completely filling the room now, and I can't help but coughing my lungs out. I reluctantly jump on my feet and wrap my shirt around my mouth and nose. As I do, I get a glimpse of a white wolf between wreaths of smoke and realize Alcide must be here too. But before I can react, Eric sweeps me up in his arms, and we're suddenly only a swirl of air in the fog.

In mere seconds, we're out of there. My feet don't touch the ground and we're flying above the flames and into the night. We're going so fast that I need to grip his shirt to steady myself. That's when I get a new glimpse of his torso. But I can't believe what I'm seeing: on his sternum, the veins have almost disappeared.

"Stop!"

I can't be sure until he gets to the ground. We land in a dark forest, not too far from the burning factory. I don't care; I tug on his shirt and position us so the far away flames can light his skin; only a faint dark shade remains. He's healing…

"It worked!"

This time, he looks at it with me, and with almost as much stupefaction. And when he looks up to me, his eyes are so open, devoid of any of the many walls he usually puts up, I feel like I'm finally looking at the real him. Completely stripped of his armor of disdain, cynicism and indifference, he appears vulnerable, but not as he was without his memory. He is himself, unequivocally. I pull on his shirt so I can crash my lips on his.

* * *

He had soon gotten rid of her bloody clothes. They'd fallen on thick grass with urgency, before everything slowed down. When he positioned himself above her, he came to a full stop. His icy blue eyes searched her dark ones. He needed to say something, to make her understand that it would be different now. That he had accepted it. Her. Fully. That he would not let her down again. But no words could pass his lips without letting out a sob too. And that was still not an option. So, he only kissed her, tenderly, passionately, until he felt her relax in his arms, letting out a breath, as if she had finally understood.

His hands roam on her whole body, barely touching her skin, as if he was rediscovering it, and was afraid to leave a mark. It raised goosebumps wherever he passed, and he relished in her small moans. He was in awe of how this simple gestures seemed to alight his own body too. Her own fingers scraping his scalp, his back, his ass, left trails of fire that made him uncontrollably growl.

As he held her close, she could feel the pain of all the losses he had endured and sensed how he longed for something that could last. As she held him back he felt strangely protected, him, the Viking, the thousand-year-old vampire, by this weak little creature. But it was true. She was there for him when he needed her. How could he ask for more? And in exchange, he would give her everything.

When he lowered himself to tenderly graze the side of her breast with his cold lips, it didn't seem like he owned her, as he had before. There was a reverence that neither he nor she had ever felt. As he slowly entered her, the urgency was completely gone; it was languorous and deep. They moved as one, building the fire they could feel inside each other as if it was the same and belonged to the both of them. And stopping just before release. Slowing back down again and starting over to make it last forever. Smiling giddily between whimpers and moans they both let out without restrain. They were alone and nothing else mattered but the raw feeling of their abandon into the other's care.

The world around them was burning and it didn't mean a thing. The world would take care of itself now. They had each other.

* * *

_x_

**_End of Season Five_**

_x_

* * *

_Stay tuned for the Epilogue..._


	7. EPILOGUE: Seventh Heaven

**EPILOGUE: Seventh Heaven**

I open the door to my house with a wide smile, as always. It smells like him in here. It still does. Salt, wood fire… I can almost hear the crashing waves and clinks of distant swordfight, although we're in the middle of the woods above Seattle. But my smile is for the doorway's carpet. It was here when he bought the house, when I entered it for the first time, and when we had sex right there. And yet I was so mad at him. For doing all this without asking me first. But, well, I know him; as much as he sometimes tries, he'll never be a gentleman. Always a savage.

* * *

"What is this?"

He looked at her as if she was the dumbest person in the world:

"- Em… A house.

\- I can see that. Why did you bring me here?

\- I bought it.

\- Why?

\- Well, for you.

\- I don't need a house, Eric!

\- Of course you do. You can't live with those roommates of yours forever.

\- I can if I want to!"

He rolled his eyes, already defeated but unwilling to give up. Uncharacteristically, he would compromise.

"Fine. Live with them all you want, but when I visit, we're coming here."

She frowned. They had agreed to a non-exclusive but constant relationship, as he was travelling a lot, and she was still working all the time. They both knew that, even if they meant everything to each other, they couldn't _be_ everything to each other, or it wouldn't last. They needed space, air to breathe, and then they would always come back into each other's arms. As they always had.

But it was still the beginning, then, and he still felt like he needed to prove something to her. She had been so mad when he had taken the vial containing her blood and sold it off to the Japanese cartels. He had made a fortune, as he now held parts of the New Blood company. A new blood that smelled suspiciously spicy.

"Trust me, it tastes nothing like yours." He had defended himself. "I'm already having them synthetize other flavors anyway." He quickly added, not helping his case.

He had tried giving her money, as he thought she deserved her cut, but she wouldn't accept it. So, he made it up by donating tons to the teaching hospital where she worked. Though, since he hadn't done it anonymously, in the slightest, she had only viewed it as a publicity stunt. She thought the cure to Hep V should have been given for free to all those infected. Eric had seen it as an opportunity to rise to power. She had been beyond furious.

"- Did you think that if you got me a house, my legs would magically open for you?

\- Well, that was saucy…"

He licked his lips, unable to resist the urge to grab her in his arms. But she put a hand on his mouth to keep him from kissing her. Her frown still deep and her jaw clenched.

"- You know you can't buy me out with presents, right? – she felt the need to stress.

\- I didn't think I needed to buy you; I thought I had already won you over, – he joked back."

Even at their worst, and unlike before, they had both figured they'd find a way to work it out. Being together was more important than their disagreements; they knew that now. Even if he was clumsy in his attempts; even if she was still angry.

"- Why are you doing this, then?

\- It's kind of your money anyway, so-"

He trailed off when he caught her murderous glare; it was still a touchy subject. So, he chose another angle:

"- You said to me that the only thing you wanted in life was to be good at what you do. So, you will never have to worry about money, or anything. Just worry about being the best, saving people and whatever it is you want to do, – he said with a dismissive gesture. – I'm just making sure you have a place to relax on your days off."

He played it as if he didn't care, but she could feel some anxiousness underneath.

"- To relax with you? – she smiled as he chuckled.

\- Oh, don't worry, little girl, I do intend to fuck you in every room and every piece of furniture here. I said relax, not rest."

She laughed, and he swept her off her feet as they crossed the threshold. He would never need an invitation into this house. Even if neither of them would ever live in it fulltime, it was theirs.

They had christened the carpet right away. Hard and fast. Hungry for each other after fighting. Then slowly made their way through every room, one by one. He licked her relentlessly, until she had to beg him to stop, on the living room couch. She blew him dry with some whipped cream to suck on his skin, against the kitchen counter, to regain some strength. They barely made it up the stairs, so he could show her the main bedroom, as he sunk his fangs inside her thigh, and they hurt their back in turn against the steps, fighting to be on top and laughing all the way. Before he entered her from behind against the bathroom sink so he could watch her come undone in the mirror while he thrust into her. And finally fondled her on their king size bed while she recovered. Then, has dawn arose, flew her swiftly down the stairs to the basement, eliciting a surprised yelp that he swallowed as he kissed her with passion. There, she refused to let him rest in retaliation, teasing him to make him lose complete control and fuck her silly until they both passed out from exhaustion.

They would always find things to disagree on, but it wouldn't keep them from enjoying each other's presence, bodies, memories and mind anymore.

* * *

I'm yawning and climbing the stairs to my room two by two, leaving my suitcase in the lobby. I used to hate it here without him, but now, I come as soon as I leave the plane. This is my sanctuary. No one expects me to be better than I am, here. This is the only place where I can truly relax, as he had predicted. I have a day off before I go back to surgeries and to my apartment next to the hospital. The lecture I gave in Paris was exhausting; I should practice my French more often. But it was worth it. If those arrogant bastards adopt the new procedures I established, they will save more lives than I can count. And then, all my hard work will definitely be worth it.

I let my tired mind wander to memories that aren't quite mine. When I was in Paris, I felt like I had been there before, even if that wasn't true. But I had seen so many images of the city, throughout the ages, in his mind, that I felt like I knew it. He hadn't been there in a while himself, so I sent him pictures of the places he used to like, even though all of them had been through a lot of changes. We laughed and reminisced, as if we had lived through all this together. It was our private little thing, our secret garden, his memories, my ability to bring them back. I guess vampires can't get too attached to how things are. Eventually, nothing lasts. Except them. Except him. He had lived through so much.

* * *

She was sitting on his laps, on the porch, both still naked, relishing in their afterglow, and wrapped in only a blanket. Her nose was pressing against the crook of his neck, under a starry night. But neither of them was truly there. They were deep in his memories, and she was enjoying just passing through time periods and the funny details no one else knew about them. It was like a live history lesson, where you could skip the boring parts, and see it through the eyes of someone you loved and understood, instead of strangers.

She had travelled a lot herself, since she had become a worldwide respected surgeon, but how would she experience 17th century Russia, or early 18th Argentina, if not with him. He had never stayed more than a few years in the same place, before the Revelation, so, there were plenty of wonders to discover in there.

When she felt that a memory was maybe too painful – especially those about Godric or Nora, sometimes, – she simply moved on to something new. Or, sometimes, when they were in the mood, they would linger there for a while, and savor the gift that were those images.

"- You're bad for me, Jill.

\- Nonsense, I'm great for you! I'm making you more human. – She laughed.

\- Exactly. You're making me nostalgic.

\- You could always stop drinking my blood, then you wouldn't see anything.

\- And let you snoop around in there without supervision? I don't think so."

He pinched her lightly, and she squirmed on his laps, which still turned him on, no matter how many times he had already been satisfied that night.

"- It's funny, I know there must be some really bad things in there, but I seem to only see the good. – She wondered.

\- You're biased, – he countered. – You've seen plenty of awful memories, you're just completely jaded by now…

\- Definitely. So, what are you afraid I could see? Do you have some embarrassing memories you're somehow hiding?"

She chuckled at the idea, but he turned her so she would face him, half serious now.

"- In your 25-or-so years of life, do _you_ have embarrassing memories? – he asked.

\- Yeah… I guess everyone does."

He raised his eyebrow: _That's my point._

"Damn, I _so_ want to see _those_ memories now!" She teasingly whined like an excited child.

He suddenly pushed her off his laps, eager to put an end to this conversation.

"- Well, then I believe this is the right time to leave! There's plenty of harmless pretty girls waiting in line to drool over me at the bar.

\- I'm sure there are…"

She now playfully pouted, unimpressed, as he dressed back up. She had a few options of her own too, when she wanted.

However, when he had his back turned, a few feet away, as he buttoned up his pants, she decided to let out a whisper she knew he could pick up. One thought she had been holding for a long while now:

"I love you, you know?

\- I know."

He had answered without a beat, as if it was a given, and didn't even bother turning back. Maybe, for fear of meeting her eyes, though. So, she added a little louder:

"- And you're an asshole.

\- I know.

\- And you love me too.

\- I do."

That was the closest she'd ever get. And she was perfectly fine with it. Actions are more important than words anyway. When he flew away, she wasn't scared, in the slightest. He was always coming back to her, and she was always coming back to him.

* * *

I undress to take a shower before bed. It's already late in the night. Maybe I'll call him in Tokyo, before I go to bed. I'm so tired I can't even figure out what time it is there. Who cares, he always picks up the phone when he knows it's me. He also turns it off when we're together. That's the little things that keep telling me he cares, when his words won't.

Before entering the bathroom, I get a peek of my naked self in the full-length mirror on the door. I only see the wrinkles now. My breasts aren't as perky as they used to be. My butt isn't as muscular. I've gotten soft. I've gotten old. All the vampire blood in my veins keeps me pretty youthful for my age, yet I can definitely see the effect time had on my body. I could get depressed by it, if it weren't for Eric.

I smile at the thought of him, as I finally walk in the bathroom.

Damn, he scared me!

The bastard has finally perfected a way to become invisible to my senses. He's been working on it for decades. And, maybe I'm helping him by being so tired and so sure he was still in Japan. But he isn't. He's naked in my bathtub, eyes closed, meditating to make sure every single muscle of his is relaxed.

But a smile creeps up when he realizes he's succeeded in surprising me.

"You've almost had me waiting." He practically purrs, with the same dark voice he used to whisper in my ears, when I still thought of him as a predator.

"You weren't even supposed to be here. – I state the obvious, as a reflex has me cover my bare, exposed, aging body. – I'm exhausted and I look like hell right now."

He remarks the ineffective gesture and waves it off:

"Don't be ridiculous and join me in here before the water gets cold."

As his hands snake up my shoulders to rub the fatigue out of them, I already feel my body waking up against his. He always makes me feel as young as I ever was.

"I hope you're not too tired, though, because I got you a few gifts from Tokyo…"

He's behind me, however, I can distinctly hear the naughtiness of his tone. I can also feel him getting gradually turned on by my naked ass against his groin. I innocently writhe against it to elicit a groan. We're still playing with each other like kids, and I can surmise what kind of toys he brought back. Thankfully, he always finds a way to make it all feel shiny and new. I can't believe the tricks he's still got up his sleeves, after all these years.

* * *

Her fiftieth birthday had come and gone. For the first time in a few decades, maybe since before the prison, she had started to feel insecure. She had only joked about it when she had reached the approximate age he was turned, that she was older than him then. He had made sure she knew she would never be. As experienced and expert she was getting, he had a huge head start on her. He had proved it by rendering her, once again, a whimpering mess begging him to let her have her release before she fell in unconscious ecstasy.

Yet now, she still shuddered at the sight of those wrinkles. After all, he had warned her, a very long time ago, about becoming old and repulsive. She figured it wouldn't be long then, before their whole decades-long story was over.

At least, they had gotten close enough that she could share her fear. He would have felt it in a heartbeat anyway. There was no secret between them. Truth be told, there never really had been.

He was lazing in bed, playing with his phone, in a penthouse hotel in Beijing, at the time. He had joined her, as she was giving a few conferences there, and he had arranged his layover so as to give him enough time for a quick visit. Which meant taking her against the huge windows with a view of the city skylights, burying himself deep inside her, reaching around to rub her clit, crushing her tits against the glass and biting her until he came.

But now, she was pacing, unable to find sleep. Maybe he had gone too easy on her; he wondered if he wouldn't have to tie her down to make her stop…and beg. He still loved it when she begged, even after all this time. Probably because it still stung her pride, and he wouldn't let her gloat about the few times she had managed to make him do the same.

"- I don't see it that way, – he countered, putting away his phone, reaching for a scarf he would slide around her wrists. – I actually think you've matured.

\- Don't humor me. – she warned, even though she couldn't sense even a hint of deceit in his voice, only the mischief of his dirty mind already figuring out ways to distract her from her thoughts.

\- I'm not. To be honest, I even think you look better than you did."

She rolled her eyes as it couldn't be true. He gestured for her to come lay with him but she wasn't ready, and he wondered if he would have to go and get her where she stood.

"Trust me, I liked you before, – his voice purred has his eyes grew dark, – you were a very pretty girl. But now, you're a beautiful woman. And that's an improvement."

He was being completely honest. Though, his seduction didn't suffice to lift her spirit:

"Maybe, but it's only going to get worse from now on…"

As she finished her sentence, he suddenly felt a wave of sadness overtake him. She immediately sensed it and ran back to bed with him. He laid his head on her chest as she wrapped her arms around him. He suddenly felt unusually vulnerable and she could guess why.

"I'm sorry, – she said while soothingly hugging him close, – I'll shut up now."

A week before, news from a study on hunters had come out. It turned out, neither of the ones that had retired got to live a very long life. No one had noticed before, because hunters used to die in battle before they got old. The few that had decided to retire had done it in secrecy. However, since she had started a truce between the two ages-long enemies, members of her clan, more often than not, chose to finish their life peacefully. And, as it happened, they all died before reaching sixty.

The study found that, if their age didn't show externally, inside, their heart weakened, their organs faltered, and vampire blood couldn't do a thing about it. In fact, it made it worse. Their human body wasn't made to be this quick, this strong; it was as if the blood had made them live faster, and so it ended sooner.

Thus, they had realized she wouldn't get to grow old. One day, maybe sooner than they thought, she would just fall, and nothing could prevent it.

She had quickly made her peace with it. She thought she had lived a full and satisfying life. Better than most lives, she even argued. But he wasn't ready yet.

* * *

"- Do you know that Ethan got his girlfriend pregnant? – I suddenly ask, because I have just found out on the way here, and the thought popped into my head.

\- Did he?"

He says it like he couldn't care less, but we both know I can feel some glee, well hidden behind his indifference. Usually I keep to myself any news about my son, because it either bores him or angers him. Actually, scratch that. It used to anger him at first, when he heard the news I was pregnant. God, that felt like so long ago.

Jake had wanted a child so badly. He had accepted my weird relationship with Eric, after a while, and had decided he would even be okay with it. But he needed to have something of himself, of us, to feel complete, I guess. I had flatly refused for years. And then, as time went by, my resolution had faltered. I had thought that, maybe, I would regret it if I didn't. I still don't know if I would have. Probably not. But I didn't regret doing it. I love the little bugger. More than anything. Even if he used to drive me nuts most of the time.

He kind of hates me now. Not as much as when he was a teenager, but he still hasn't forgiven me for being so absent. God, was I a bad mom! Thankfully, Jake was a better parent that I could ever be. That doesn't excuse my behavior, but hey, I knew I wasn't cut out for it, didn't I? I guess, even if I was a disaster, I'm still kind of selfishly glad there will be something left of me when I'm gone. That's _my_ immortality, I guess.

Eric hated seeing me pregnant. He found it completely gross. Once, he agreed to put his hand on my belly to feel the fetus moving. I didn't know vampires could retch like that. I didn't see him for a whole year after that. It's the longest we've ever been without one another. But then he came back, and acted as if nothing had happened at all. He ignored the kid for years. I almost thought he had forgotten about it. I had gotten really good at keeping all the parts of my life completely separated. Maybe that's why my kid hates me…

And that's probably why Ethan keeps me away from entire parts of his life too. Like when he went to college without telling me. He didn't even tell me about the huge loan he'd had to take, until he came to bitterly thank me for paying it up. The thing was, I hadn't; I had no idea. I then found out that Eric had reimbursed the whole thing. He hadn't forgotten about my child; in fact, he had been keeping tabs on him, and without anyone knowing, he had been protecting him all this time.

When confronted, he had shrugged it off as if it was obvious:

"Well, he's a little part of you, so he better still be here when you're gone, that's it."

That's why, even if he had probably found out before I did, I tell him about Ethan getting his own kid. I know that, somewhere beneath all the layers of cool, he deeply cares.

And in the way he kisses me now, I feel the promise: _I'll look out for that one too. And all those after them, when you're gone._

Good. Now that's taken care of, we can go back to all the crazy sex and fun we were having.

* * *

_x_

**_THE END_**

_x_

* * *

_Youhou!  
Thank you for reading!  
__Please review and let me know what you think!  
Lots of love to all the crazy TB fans out there..._


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